


Half a Million Strong

by kiddle



Series: Woodstock Series [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 1960s, Alternate Universe, American AU, Coming of Age, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Famous Harry, First Meetings, Historical, Humor, M/M, Non-Famous Louis, Recreational Drug Use, Sexual Content, Woodstock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-05 15:08:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 50,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14621288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiddle/pseuds/kiddle
Summary: Everybody is really looking for some kind of answer where there isn't one. Why would 300,000, 120,000, 60,000, 70,000 people come to anything, just because it's music, you know? I mean, is music all that important? I don't really think so, but people don't know, you know. They don't know how to live and they don't know what to do and they think that if they can come here they can find out, you know, what it is or how to maintain it. It’s just, like... People are very lost.-Jerry, festival goerAugust 15th, 1969, New York.Louis Tomlinson is a young writer for a relatively new-on-the-scene rock magazine called Rolling Stone. His assignment is to fly across the country to cover the highly anticipated Woodstock Music and Art Festival. Armed with a notebook, audio recorder, and a camera, Louis just needs one big interview.Harry Styles. A new name in rock music and a future name in rock history. His first album sold tens of thousands and his interviews attract audiences across the country. He has the poetry of Jim Morrison and the stage presence of Mick Jagger. And after seeing him perform at the festival, Louis is willing to jump through hoops to put Harry on the cover of Rolling Stone.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm obviously not the first person to write a Woodstock AU, but I've been so interested in the history around it lately that I decided to delve into my own take. While I have gone quite in-depth with my research (the Woodstock documentary is really interesting if you haven't seen it) and tried to make the overall event true to history, I'm sure there will be a few inaccuracies. But I also made Louis a writer at Rolling Stone and slightly understated the magazine’s success at the time, so clearly this is meant to be very fictitious anyway. I do want to highlight a few tags and warnings, but if you don't care about that just skip between the squiggles.  
> ~  
> Since it is the 1960s and Woodstock, use of marijuana and LSD as well as excessive drinking is detailed throughout. Nothing about it is too serious, but this just serves as a reminder. While I did not tag homophobia of any kind and there are no extreme cases of such, there are undertones of it just because of the era it takes place in. As for sexual content, it will only be detailed in one part, which has a warning at the beginning of it.  
> ~  
> Like always, thank you so much for deciding to check this out and I'd love to hear your thoughts and theories in the comments!  
> Enjoy!  
> -K
> 
> UPDATE: The sequel to this fic called Gather No Moss is now up on my account if you want to check it out!

**Day One - Friday**

“ _Today marks the beginning of the highly anticipated Woodstock Music and Arts Fair being held on a 600 acre dairy farm up in the Catskills Mountains this weekend. Organizers were expecting, or rather, hoping, that they could get around twenty-five thousand people to show up for the event, but they’ve been arriving in masses far beyond expected.  The event is already earning the attention of the nation as we watch these estimates roll in. Imagine that. Thousands and thousands of long-haired kids travelling to gather for a weekend of peace, love, and music. It’s really something, isn’t it, folks?_

_Thirty-two acts are scheduled to perform during the three-day festival, including The Who, Grateful Dead, Janis Joplin, the legendary Jimi Hendrix, and New York’s newest rising star, Harry Styles. To start the weekend off, Joan Baez, Arlo Guthrie, Tim Hardin, and Richie Havens, among others, will be taking the stage this evening. While the forecast does not seem to be on the festival-goers side, no cancellations will be made thus far. Remember to stay dry and stay safe out there as you-”_

“This is far as I can get ya’, kid.”

Louis perked his head up, freezing his right hand that was frantically scratching information onto the pages of his coiled notebook. The taxi cab had halted behind an abandoned blue van with chipping paint around the sides. This must’ve been near Bethel, the small town Louis heard mentioned many times on the radio during the long drive here. His boss was going to kill him for how big the bill he was raking up already was from only having landed in New York hours ago. And that was if he actually managed to get this story. If he didn’t, that bill would more than likely be coming home with him. Hopefully a cardboard box made a comfortable bed. Or maybe he could make some friends here and join them in their cross-country travels.

“I appreciate you agreeing to drive all the way-”

“Meter’s still running.”

“Right.”

Louis collected his pencil and notebook back into his bag and pulled the strap over his shoulder. Stuffing his hand in his pocket, he pulled out a wad of cash and handed the driver a few crumpled bills. The driver mumbled something incoherently as Louis stepped out, then sped off to turn around as soon as the back door was slammed shut.

So unlike most of the young and eccentric people attending the Aquarian expedition, Louis didn’t show up to the dairy farm in the Catskill Mountains of New York in an old bus or beat up car full of his friends and the smell of marijuana leaking through the windows. Instead, he arrived in a cab straight from the airport with a single bag slung over his shoulder and a determination bubbling in the pit of his stomach. That, and hunger since he forgot to grab something to eat before hailing a cab. Nearly a six hour flight and he hadn’t had anything since that frozen dinner of a meal they served on the plane. Not that he had high standards. In fact, his standards were quite low. He lived in a tiny studio apartment in San Francisco, rooming with a friend from college, which meant nothing but a thin red curtain gave him any privacy. He was used to just having enough to get by.

In college, Louis studied journalism and music. Well, he tried to study music. He was good at the writing, but couldn’t commit much to the playing. What didn’t change was his passion for the art. That’s when he decided he was going to write _about_ music. Whether it be a book or concert reviews in a local paper, he was going to write about it.

Three months before Louis graduated in the spring of ‘69, he heard about this new rock magazine that was on the horizon. _Rolling Stone_. He picked up a copy of the February issue, Jimi Hendrix gracing the cover, while buying his bi-weekly pack of cigarettes. On the bus ride home, he read the thing cover to cover, even missing his stop and turning the rest of his journey home into a ten minute walk. The next day, he got the address of the offices they were working from and marched right in there asking what he’d have to do to get on their writing team. After quite a bit of bargaining, they assigned him a 500 word review on a local band that was playing at a nearby theatre. He wrote 531 and got it to them by the next day. The article was published and he got twenty bucks for it, then didn’t hear from them for months.

In April was when he got the call. The magazine wanted him to do another thousand words, this time on Led Zeppelin, who were coming to San Francisco on their second North American tour. He said yes immediately. A week later, he had his own desk and coffee mug.

New York was another story. It wasn’t that Louis earned his way into this music festival, but more that he was the only one qualified. Rolling Stone was a tiny magazine, definitely not one worthy of earning a press pass for the show. But Louis insisted – practically begged, actually – that if they sent him to New York, he’d find his way behind the stage and he’d get that big story. If he didn’t get an interview, he’d pay his boss back every cent of that plane ticket, and Louis was running low on cents lately. Just to get a ticket at the gate was twenty-four dollars. He barely had enough money to pay his bills most weeks. But hey, at least he’d get to see the show.

Stepping out into the late afternoon summer sun enveloped Louis in a blanket of heat. He wondered if he should change from his blue jeans into the cut-off shorts he had tossed into his bag. While packing, he made the decision early to bring as little as possible. No tent, nothing to sleep on, just a change of clothes, what he needed for work, and a hope in strangers that would be kind enough share what they had.

One thing Louis was grateful for was the bandana he had tied around his arm so he could move it to his forehead and pull his hair away from his face. He had let it grow out just off his ears and neck, both because he didn’t want to spend the money on a barber, and because the style had grown in popularity recently.

Right away, he was swept into the flow of the crowd moving towards the festival grounds. He heard a few people chatting around him that the walk was over two miles, but there was no way to drive at this point. The streets were littered with cars and people, people in cars and people on top of cars. A tiny bird was trotting along the road next to him, then quickly flew to land on the roof of an old truck. Strange, considering how many people were around and how easily birds tended to be scared off.

A smell Louis knew all too well filled the air like oxygen. This seemed like as good a time as any to start snapping a few pictures. Along with his personal belongings, Louis made sure to bring an abundance of film in that brown satchel of his. Just as he opened the flap to start digging for his camera, two people came barrelling down the street behind him, knocking him flat onto the pavement. Thank God the camera never made it out of its case.

“You alright, man?”

Louis looked up into the direction of the sunlight, squinting his eyes so he could see the figure standing among the beams. He couldn’t make out a face, but his could make out the hand offering to help him up, so he took it and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.

“I’m fine, thanks,” Louis said, readjusting his bag to fall at his side. He could finally get a good look at the kind stranger. He was hanging out next to a car with another guy and a girl who were both sitting on the hood. The guy was wearing too many layers for summer and had a guitar in his hand that he was strumming peacefully while the girl closed her eyes and swayed next to him.

“What’s your name, brother?” the stranger asked. He was wearing his shirt unbuttoned and had his legs exposed below his shorts. This guy had the right idea about dressing for the weather. His hair wasn’t nearly as long as Louis’ but he wore thick rimmed sunglasses over his eyes.

“Name’s Louis,” he said. “I’m from out of town.”

“Everyone here is from out of town,” the stranger retorted.

“San Francisco,” Louis clarified, since it seemed this guy wasn’t going to make small talk easy.

“Far out,” the stranger nodded his head approvingly. Louis waited for him to continue, but the stranger was just grinning. He wondered which of the three of them was holding the grass. Probably all three.

“Where are you guys from?” Louis eventually asked.

“Oh, everywhere, man. We live all over.”

Louis glanced to the two people on the hood behind the stranger. The girl still had her eyes closed, but the boy smiled and held up a peace sign. This was the moment he realized these were the exact people he needed to interview about the festival. This story couldn’t _just_ be about the one big interview, it was about the experience as a whole. But he didn’t want to scare them off, so he kept his notebook in his bag. He hoped his memory would stay on his side the next few days.

“What are your names?” Louis wondered, sounding far more intrigued than before.

“I’m Liam,” the stranger said, then pointed to the kid holding a guitar behind him, “And that’s Zayn.” Since Liam didn’t introduce the girl, Louis figured he didn’t actually know who she was.

There were so many people passing on either side, reminding Louis that he still had a long walk ahead of him. “You guys headed to the festival grounds?”

“That, we are,” Liam declared, raising his hands from his sides. “Zayn, my friend, are you ready to continue the journey?”

Without a word, Zayn hopped down from the car and pushed the guitar around so the strap held it against his back. Liam picked up a large bag from the ground and threw it over one shoulder. At least Louis was quick to find some others who were more prepared than he was.

“So, Louis, you’re here alone to attend the festival?” Liam questioned as they rejoined the endless stream of people.

Louis supposed he didn’t have to lie about the real reason he was here, but maybe he just wouldn’t tell the full truth. Of course he _wanted_ to come to the festival, but no one had to know he was mainly here because he needed to write a story, right? He just wanted the same experience as everyone else. That was the only way to write the truth.

“Yeah, I couldn’t find anyone else willing to make the trip. But I just had to experience this, you know? So much great music in one place.”

“It really will be phenomenal,” Liam agreed. He then pulled out a pack of cigarettes he had tucked away between his sleeve and his shoulder. “Smoke?”

“Sure,” Louis shrugged. He only had three or four left in his own pack since he forgot to pick some more up at the airport, so bumming one every so often couldn’t hurt.

Liam pulled two out and rested them both between his lips. He flicked open a lighter and let the flame hover for a second before offering Louis his.

“Thanks,” Louis said before taking a puff, then watched as Liam handed the other to Zayn, who was half a step behind them. The two of them passed it back and forth a few times, making Louis feel a little selfish for hogging one to himself. Then again, he didn’t exactly know these people.

A second later, Louis felt a tickle of hair brush against his right arm. He turned to see the girl from the hood of the car walking next to him, smiling as she gracefully took the cigarette from his hand.

“You know, they’re starting to claim these things cause cancer,” the girl said, taking a puff for herself. Her braids draped down to the dark skin exposed at her hips. They were held in place by a purple scarf wrapped around her head that fell with it and blended with her short floral shirt. The glow in her brown eyes held an exciting youthfulness. Louis would guess that she wasn’t any older than nineteen or twenty.

“Is that so?” Louis questioned, plucking the cigarette back from between her fingers. “I don’t have cancer.”

“Not yet, but you could.” She was determined to keep the cancer stick in her possession. “You’re going to die of something, one day. At least these give you a better chance of knowing how.”

“Why would you want to know how?”

“So I can be prepared. If I know now that I’ll die from lung cancer in thirty or forty years, then I know that’s thirty or forty years of life to experience.”

“Why don’t you just stop then so you’d have more?”

“I could die in a car wreck next week. This is just in case everything else goes well.”

Louis watched her curiously as she stared straight ahead, his cheeks hollowing as the lit end curled smaller. There were quite a few flaws in her logic, but he didn’t see the sense in arguing. “What’s your name?” he asked.

She smiled and looked across at him. “I don’t use my name. You can call me Deja. As in, déjà vu.”

“Why’s that?” Louis wondered.

“Because maybe you’ll see me again.”

And with that, she disappeared into the crowd on her own, escaping with the cigarette all to herself.

Louis had been here less than twenty minutes. This scene was going to take some getting used to.

Louis stayed with Liam and Zayn the rest of the walk until they reached the dairy farm. Every few seconds they passed a character worthy of a double take. People standing on roofs of cars, walking with strange and colourful clothing choices, and some with hardly any clothing at all. They hadn’t reached anywhere near the stage yet, but music filled the air. Whether it be from guitars, tambourines, two cans being hit together, or the off-pitch voices of attendees, it was everywhere.

Eventually, Louis expected they would reach some sort of gate or ticket booth, but instead they spotted a group of people stood at a make-shift wire fence, forcing it down as each person climbed over. The force of their combined weight managed to bend the wire flat, and all at once the crowd shifted towards it. On the other side of that fence was the festival grounds, and that’s exactly where they needed to be.

“Come on,” Liam said, waving the others over once he noticed the commotion.

“I still need to buy a ticket,” Louis told him.

Liam shook his head and laughed. “No you don’t.”

Zayn raised his eyebrows in agreement and grabbed Louis’ arm, pulling him forward to catch up with Liam. Methodically, the three of them stepped across the bent wire until they reached the other side, excitedly continuing on down the grassy hill. And that’s when Louis saw it. The crowd. The people.

Twenty-five thousand had to be the biggest understatement he’d ever heard. There had to be double that. Maybe even triple. Louis wouldn’t be surprised if the number had reached a hundred thousand. And that was just right now. There were still car loads of people coming. Bus loads. And he was here to witness it all.

The further you gazed across the farm, the more the people looked like ants. Colourful, loud, tiny ants. Near the back, where they were first exploring, many had spread themselves out on large blankets or set up small tents. Some had even managed to drive their cars and vans right onto the field. A clever idea, if you thought about it. A place to sleep and keep all your belongings without having to carry them all around, as long as no one tried to break in a steal anything. With that said, trying to get out of here at the end would likely be hell in of itself.

A small village had been formed from art booths and food vendors next to the edge of the surrounding forest. As they walked by, Louis craning his neck to take a look at the t-shirts and beautiful artwork for sale, Liam scoffed.

“Three days of peace, love, and capitalism,” he remarked. “I should’ve known as soon as I saw how much they were charging for tickets. Twenty-four dollars at the gate. Can you believe that?”

Louis thought about how much it probably cost to put this thing together and pay all of the artists, but he was also a lot happier to have that twenty-four dollars sitting in his pocket. “Unreal,” he shook his head.

Liam stepped forward to continue on the way towards the stage, but Zayn reached a hand out to stop him with wide eyes. Liam turned to him. “You want to look around, don’t you?”

Instead of nodding, Zayn just turned toward the village, implying they should follow. Louis didn’t mind so much. If he was going to write this story, he wanted to write about everything.

He watched as Zayn moved between booths, feeling the fabrics of hanging shirts and scarfs and examining the intricate colours and designs of the art. But he never stayed long enough to buy anything, or spark up a conversation with the vendors.

“Does he not speak?” Louis asked Liam, who stuck by his side as they strolled down the busy path.

“No, he does. At least, I think he does…” Liam scratched his head. “Now that I think about it, I’m not so sure.”

“Isn’t he your friend? How do you not know?”

“Sure, he’s my friend, but I only met him two days ago. I hitchhiked here from Indiana with his family group.”

Louis raised an eyebrow. “So he’s part of a hippie family? Where are the rest of them?”

“No clue. Lost them in the crowds as soon as we got here. He doesn’t seem too worried.”

Liam nodded ahead of them to where Zayn was handing over a few dollars in exchange for a brown vest with fur along every seam. He excitedly pulled off his guitar, denim jacket, and the plain t-shirt he was wearing to instead put on his new purchase. When he approached the other two again, Louis nodded in approval while Liam said, “Looks good, man.”

Zayn smiled, then moved past them towards the way they came.

“Well, I guess that means we’re done here,” Liam sighed while turning to follow, Louis trailing the pack.

Moving along, they shuffled through the crowd, trying not to step on anyone’s belongings, or any _one_ for that matter. Louis wondered how much further they wanted to go. If it were up to him, they’d be squeezing their way right to the front. Louis still had to figure out how he was going to actually get backstage without any kind of pass or authorization. That was a task he was going to have to complete without any new friends tagging along. His charm and wit got him this far from his desk in San Francisco. Hopefully it could get him face to face with the one person who could make his big story complete.

Just they were passing an old red van, paint chipped over the years, Louis noticed two men who were walking around earlier, one holding a large camera and another a microphone. They were now stood at the entrance of the back door, seeming to be interviewing a woman sat inside.

“What are they doing over there?” Louis asked, just as the pair was leaving.

“Let’s go find out,” Liam said, then immediately began walking over to the girl. As they got closer, they realized a whole grouping of people were gathered at the site around this van. One bare-chested guy was even making an attempt to build a fire.

“Hey, peace,” the girl smiled when she realized they were approaching. “What can I do for you?”

“My friend, here, was wondering if you knew what those two men who talked to you were up to,” Liam enquired, and Louis quickly stepped in because he could speak for himself.

“I just noticed the camera, so I was curious what they were filming for.”

“I heard it was some kind of documentary,” the girl said. She crossed her legs and pulled out a joint from a bag next to her. Squinting her eyes from the sun, she glanced back up at them. “Why don’t you sit down? Join us.”

Liam did so without protest, and took the joint with thanks when the girl handed it to him. Louis had to admit, he was kind of eager for his turn as well. That cigarette earlier just did not do the trick. Especially since he never got the chance to finish it.

Out of the corner of his eye, Louis noticed the shirtless man from the fire approach them. He looked older than the rest of them with a full beard and circular glasses like John Lennon.

“Made some new friends, did you, Pam?” the man asked as he took a seat next to Zayn on the grass. That was one extra person between Louis and that joint.

“They’ll be friends once I know their names,” Pam said, looking to Liam. He named himself, then introduced Zayn, then Louis.

“They call me Sky,” the man said, holding up a peace sign with one hand as he took the joint from Zayn with his other.

They initially exchanged the casualties of where everyone was from. Pam and Sky lived here in New York, but bought this van for occasions just like this. Liam mentioned that he was thinking about hitching to check out California after this since that was a state he still hadn’t explored much. Louis kept that in mind in case he found himself without an interview and definitely unable to afford to fly back home. Then again, that would add on another week without a shower. This van sure would be smelling ripe after a few days.

Louis found it much easier to enjoy himself once he was no longer in a sober state of mind as he casually hugged his knees to his chest. After the walking and the crowds and the constant reminder of the rarity of bathrooms, a way to relax was a necessity for this weekend. And boy, were those ways in abundance.

In the distance, Louis watched as more attendees filled the field, some directions extending further than he could see. This was really not what he was expecting when he begged his boss for that plane ticket. If he was going to get that interview, he might have to plan his escape soon before any possible changes to the schedule were made.

“Does anyone know the order of the performers?” Louis asked the group.

“I think I have one of those posters that were hanging around the city,” Pam said as she leaned back into the van, a red flyer appearing in her hand. She handed it over to Louis, who accepted it with a thanks to examine.

“Who is it you’re so excited to see?” Liam wondered. His voice was shallow since he was trapping smoke in his lungs.

Louis looked around the group with one raised eyebrow. “Any of you heard of Harry Styles?”

“A local? Of course we have. I know him actually,” Sky said like it was no big deal at all.

Louis’ eyes widened. “You do?” This could be it. His ticket for the big story, and his ticket home. All he’d have to do is take this guy with him to get back stage, find Harry Styles so Sky could introduce the two of them, then Louis could-

“Yeah, we hung out with the same crowd after one of his basement bar shows one time. His friend had great acid.”

Louis sank. Back to Plan A, he supposed.

“He any good live?” Louis asked so he wouldn’t look completely uninterested as he took his final hit of the second joint. It was getting so tiny that Pam pulled out a pair of metal tweezers so none of the weed would go to waste. Of course, Louis already knew the answer to his question. He’d read every article on Harry Styles he could gather so he knew exactly which questions to ask. This wasn’t any old “You excited to play tonight?” Louis wanted a cover story. He had to convince this guy to do a little more than offer him a few minutes of his free time.

“He’s good, man. Great on the guitar, too,” Sky said.

“No Hendrix, that’s for sure,” Pam added, “But he can still wail.”

According to the flyer, if the order was accurate, Harry was going to perform in the first half of tonight. Louis hoped he could get back there before the show to get a few pre-performance questions in before he hit the stage.

“Mind if I keep this?” Louis asked Pam.

“All yours,” she assured, so he folded it up into four and stuck it in his back pocket.

“Well, would anyone like to join me?” Liam spoke up, standing from where he had previously sprawled himself out on the grass, Louis wondered how much the guy had smoked in total today. He was clearly stoned when they first met, which was unsurprising but also intriguing because it meant Louis didn’t know what he would be like sober. That is, unless the occurrence was so seldom that Liam didn’t even know himself.

“Where you headed?” Pam asked. She was yet to leave her spot in front of the van, as if she was guarding it.

“I want to get closer to the stage for Richie Havens.”

“We have the little one to take care of, but you’re free to come back any time,” she smiled.

Louis whipped his head around to look at her curiously. Was he the only one who heard that? “Sorry, what do you mean ‘little one’?” Louis said.

Pam pushed herself to the side to reveal what was in the van behind her. A small girl, no older than three or four, was laying her stomach as she snored lightly. Louis tried not to look so surprised, but that was practically a baby. Were they even allowed here?

“What’s her name?” Liam asked, his face lit up like he had just witnessed the most precious thing he’d seen in his life. Even Zayn leaned forward to get a look at the sleeping child.

“We call her Rain,” Pam said softly.

“Rain comes from the sky,” Sky added, and Louis was definitely not the only one to notice the smirk on his face when he said it. An odd comment, so Louis chose not to reply.

“I’ll come with you,” he said instead, remembering Liam’s request for company to get closer to the stage. He hopped to his feet.

“Great,” Liam grinned. “Zayn, you joining us?”

Zayn pulled his guitar forward and strummed an A minor. Louis would know, with his year of music school and beginner level guitar training. He then moved to a G, then a C, and his lack of attention made it pretty clear that the answer was no.

There was no defined path between them and the stage. People were scattered across the entire grounds, an excited buzz mixed with the ever-present smell of smoke in the air. The first act hadn’t started yet, but people were already crowding near the stage in a pack. Louis and Liam dodged people and belongings as they zig-zagged their way through the crowd. Most people were sat on the ground, leaving little room to idly wait unless they wanted to make even more friends first.

The stage was exposed on all sides, leaving nothing but a canopy to act as a shelter. From what Louis could tell, it was made of wood attached to yellow support towers holding the speakers. Easily, there were a hundred people in a straight line between them and the stage.

“Do you want to try to get any closer?” Louis asked once their slow jogging had faded to a walk.

“You can’t see well from here?”

“Don’t you want to see Richie Havens up close?”

“If you insist, lead the way.”

Louis was really going to have to work out a plan now. He had Liam on his tail, but he didn’t just want to get to the front of the stage. He wanted to get behind it. Soon he was going to have to decide if he was going to make up a lie to ditch his new friend to fight for himself, or figure out a way to convince Liam to come along without blowing his own cover.

He stopped and turned around, causing Liam to nearly bump right into his chest.

“What’s wrong?” Liam asked.

“You think Harry Styles brought his friend with the good acid?”

“What?”

Louis leaned in closer to speak, hoping the people were barely a foot away from them on all sides weren’t paying attention. “I want to see if we can get backstage where the performers are hanging out.”

“Why do you want to do that?”

“Don’t you think it would be cool to get a look at what’s going on back there? Rehearsing, tuning guitars, mingling with the performers. Plus, I’m sure they have better shit back there then what’s circling around out here. It’s probably a party in of itself!” Louis boasted, hitting Liam on the arm for emphasis.

“You got some sort of plan?”

“Find an entrance,” Louis stated simply.

“There’s going to be security.”

“My charisma is plentiful.”

Liam took a deep breath, then pulled his cigarettes from his sleeve to light one up. Louis hoped he had some more in that bag he left with Zayn because it looked like his pack was running low.

“You don’t think they’ll try and kick us out?”

“From behind the stage? Maybe. But of the festival? What are they gonna do, helicopter us out of here?”

“Alright,” Liam shrugged. “I’m in.”

“Yes!” Louis cheered, then pulled him by his arm so they could attempt to make a beeline for the side barriers.

“If this actually works, Zayn is gonna be pissed he didn’t come along,” Liam said.

Louis snorted. “It’s not like he’d have much to say to anyone back there, anyway.”

A wooden fence formed a barricade between the growing crowd and the stage. Louis was surprised he hadn’t seen any attempts to tear that down too, but then again that might put an end to the whole festival all together.

The barricade extended far past the stage, so Louis’ idea was to follow it until there was any sign at all of an opening. But then Louis found a better sign: a camera.

Walking diagonal in the same direction they were was a man followed closely by someone holding a video camera – the same man who was interviewing Pam just before Liam introduced them to her and Sky. Pam had mentioned that they were collecting footage of the weekend. The pair was moving through the crowd with determination, and the closer they got to the stage, the brighter the lightbulb in Louis’ head got.

Louis started walking faster, occasionally glancing over his shoulder to make sure Liam was still close behind. He dodged each person in his way, squeezing between bodies and offering his apologies for being in people’s way, even though the way he saw it, they were in his way. And then he grabbed Liam’s arm and they ran until they fell in line behind the camera man, keeping enough distance that neither of the pair would notice.

“What are we doing?” Liam asked, leaning forward to yell into Louis’ ear. It was so loud around them that he wouldn’t be able to hear any other way.

“We’re joining the film crew,” Louis said without the faintest hint of hesitance in his voice. If this was the plan, he had to keep his mind committed. And convince Liam to either do the same or let Louis do all the talking.

When they met the guard standing at the narrow gap in the fence, the first man – assumed to be the director – only had to say the word “Crew,” and he was in. The camera man repeated the same word, then Louis did, then Liam, and somehow it was that easy. They made it to the other side of the threshold, and they were in.

Now it was just a matter of how long they could go without getting caught.

Where they had entered was more field and less people. Trucks carrying equipment were parked along the fence with roadies running back and forth to unpack them. Closer to the stage was where most people had gathered, practically on the stage but out of the performers’ way. Louis and Liam stayed close behind the camera man, but not close enough that he would notice they were following him. People moved past them pretty quickly without sparing much of a glance. Richie Havens was just about to take the stage, which must have been why the crew was headed back here to begin with.

Without any warning, Louis turned around and grabbed Liam by his open shirt to pull him along.

“What are you doing?” Liam demanded in annoyance, but Louis was pulling him up the ramp of a truck and shoving a roll of cables he picked up off an amp into his chest.

“Now we’re roadies,” Louis said, then grabbed a second roll for himself. “Blend in.”

The two of them walked off the truck like it was nothing and made their way towards side stage. Just as they dropped the cables, Richie Havens was walking up the steps with his scratched up acoustic guitar, ready to take the stage.

“Woah,” Liam let out quiet enough so only Louis, who was standing in front of him, could hear.

Louis smirked, then looked over his shoulder. “Told you you’d get to see him up close.”

Most of the roadies and organizers decided to break and take in the music from the first performer of the night. Richie was wild on the guitar, using his thumb up and down that fret board and wearing the guitar out to its bones. It was hard not to get lost in the sound and mesmerized by the atmosphere. The crowd rose to their feet and cheered and screamed between each song and flawless solo. Liam even cupped his hands around his mouth to let out a few shouts.

During the last song was when Louis saw him: Harry Styles. He was standing on the other side of the stage, hiding near the back and speaking passively with a man on his right who was wearing a cowboy hat. That long and curly hair on Harry’s head would typically make someone blend in anywhere young people were, but the floral bellbottoms, flowy shirt, flashy silver shoes, and matching scarf set him apart.

Louis watched Harry speak more than he watched the rest of the performance. The way he kept crossing and uncrossing his arms. Folding his hands together when his arms hung in front of him. Jutting his hip out every time he switched positions to stand more comfortably. His jaw clenching and eyebrows knitting together as he listened along to whatever this man in the cowboy hat had to say. Louis didn’t get Liam’s attention because he didn’t want him to know who was standing maybe sixty feet away from them. And he was extra glad about that decision when Harry caught his eye, noticing the staring.

Immediately diverting his gaze, Louis instead began clapping because the song had just come to an end and he was _definitely_ paying more attention to the stage, anyway. The crowd cheered him off and Richie walked right past them as he exited. Liam called out, “Great show, man!” as it happened, but there was so much going on that he didn’t end up with a response. Louis glanced across the way again, and Harry was nowhere to be seen.

“That was outta sight, man,” Liam beamed, shaking Louis’ shoulders. “How much longer do you think we can hang around here?” he asked a little quieter, making Louis turn around.

“Until we get caught,” Louis whispered, but he was thinking _Until I get my interview_. Now that he knew Harry Styles was here, all he had to do was find him and try to get a minute of his time. And then ask for a few more for a full interview later on.

“Look, they have food!” Liam pointed to a guy walking around with a tray of wrapped up sandwiches. “Take two and save one for later,” he instructed Louis. That was probably a good plan since Louis brought absolutely no food with him and didn’t know how thrilled he was about making a trip to those overpriced stands near the art village behind the crowd.

When the tray came around, they each grabbed two and Louis stuffed the extras in his shoulder bag. Then it came around a second time and they grabbed two more each, just in case. The others back at the site might get hungry too, after all. They scarfed down the initial sandwiches while hanging out on the grass with a few other roadies. For the most part, they managed to avoid speaking by mocking interest in the lives of the workers. Then when a joint got passed around, Louis couldn’t think of a better dessert to follow that ham and cheese sandwich.

“Man, you’d think they’d feed us better around here,” one guy said, picking leftover sandwich from his teeth.

“At least they’re feeding us at all. Did you hear they’re charging a dollar for hot dogs out there? I could get one for a quarter back home,” another piped up. The guy looked almost like a kid under his black sunglasses and bucket hat. He sat on the grass with his knees up and his arms rested over them as he chewed on his last bite.

A woman with a clipboard ran up in a hurry, waving forward the guy who was complaining about hotdog prices only a second ago. “Let’s go. You’re on in five,” she said. The kid stood up, brushed off his pants, and then pulled a pair of drumsticks from his back pocket.

“Duty calls,” he said, drumming the air. “Thanks for the toke.”

As he left, Louis turned to the others in confusion. “Who was that guy?” he asked.

Liam shrugged his shoulders, as if that was a helpful response at all, but then one of the roadies said, “Niall Horan. Haven’t you heard of ‘im?”

Louis raised his eyebrows. “The drummer for-”

“Yep,” he said before Louis could finish. “He’s a cool guy. Real normal. You’d never know he was the one behind those hits unless you knew his name.”

“Or heard him on the drums. His skills are far out.”

Louis was a little too distracted to follow the rest of the conversation, because out of the corner of his eyes he swore he just saw Harry Styles walk past a trailer across the way. This was his chance.

“I’ll be right back. Just going to find the restroom,” Louis said quickly, more for Liam’s benefit than anyone else’s so he didn’t think he was abandoning him. “You good?” he mouthed to Liam just to be safe as he stood up. Liam offered a thumbs up in response, then went back to his sandwich and the conversation at hand.

The first place Louis was headed was, in fact, the restrooms. Back here they had a line-up of Port-o-Sans readily available for the crew and performers. Out there, they had a line-up of Port-o-Sans equipped to handle about twenty-five thousand. Not one hundred thousand. This could quite possibly be his only chance for a peaceful shit this entire weekend, so he was going to take it.

Closing the door shut behind him, Louis decided he was going to take as much time as he’d like in there. It occurred to him as he sat there that this was the only possible way he could get any privacy around here, unless he decided to go for a walk alone in the forest. Then again, Louis could barely find the way to his apartment from the bus stop, so staying with the rest of civilization was probably a smarter idea.

The problem with these Port-o-Sans was that they were too damn humid. And, well, it was a toilet used by dozens of other people. The privacy was only worth the nose-curling smell for so long. Louis eventually had to get the hell out of there.

As soon as he stepped out of the Port-o-San, Louis took one breath of the fresh air, then felt a body awkwardly slam into the side of his.

“Woah, sorry man. Didn’t even see you. Where did you come from?”

Louis froze. This was – holy _shit._

“Just the…” he waved pointlessly towards the Port-o-San behind him. “You’re uh… Hey!”

_Okay, what the_ fuck _was that?_

“Hi,” Harry Styles said to him. He was going to have to get over the whole ‘star struck’ thing real quick if he thought he could get a professional interview with this guy.

“I’m Louis,” he said quickly, just when it looked like Harry was about to continue on his way.

“Harry,” he greeted, and Louis had no idea why he could feel his face going beet red. “I’d shake your hand, but you said you just…” he gestured towards the Port-o-San the same way Louis did.

“Right,” Louis laughed uncomfortably, but his window of opportunity was closing and he needed to act fast. So he turned up the knob on his charm and threw on his professional voice. “I was actually wondering if I could have a moment of your time.”

Tilting his head, Harry furrowed his brow. “What for?”

“You see, I work for this magazine based in San Francisco called-”

But Harry was already shaking his head and taking a step to the side. “Sorry. I’m not here to do interviews.”

The response hit Louis enough to throw him off, but he wasn’t ready to give up.

Louis stopped him, turning around so they had now switched places. “We want to do a whole cover story on you. It doesn’t even have to be here. We could arrange for some time later on. Please, if we could just-”

“Look, I said I’m not here for interviews. Sorry if you came all this way, but I just don’t have the time.”

“Wait!” Louis tried again. Harry didn’t keep walking, giving him a sliver of hope. “You’re an up-and-comer, right? You’re still trying to make your name mean something. So is our magazine. We’d be helping each other out. We spread your name, you spread ours. Fifteen minutes, that’s all I ask.”

“I don’t like the press. Can’t trust ‘em.”

“I’ve never been anything but honest in my writing,” Louis tried to assure him.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Ten minutes.”

For a second, it looked like Harry was genuinely considering it, but then he shook his head again. “I can’t do it, man. Sorry.”

With that and a tight-lipped, apologetic smile, he was gone, and there was absolutely nothing Louis could do about it.

Shit.

He watched as Harry disappeared into one of the trailers behind the stage. For half a second the thought of going after him crossed Louis’ mind, but he didn’t want to push his luck. All that would do is risk truly pissing Harry off once and for all, or get himself kicked out of here. Either way, Louis would be leaving without an interview.

Standing there, in front of the Port-a-Sans, Louis truly did not know what to do. The whole reason he came here was for that interview. In the back of his head, he always thought he could just try to enjoy the festival and get whatever he could out of the weekend if it didn’t work out, but without his big interview, all his piece would be is a shallow attempt at understanding youth culture. This was a rock magazine. He needed to talk to a musician.

“Hey,” Liam said, approaching with a wide grin. He held up a hand that was clawed around a six-pack of beer. “Check out what I found!”

Louis cocked an eyebrow. “You _found_ that?”

“I may have snagged it from a trailer. Want to split it?”

Louis eyed the beer, then Liam, and then shrugged in agreement.

The pair sauntered back towards the trailers, intending to find a secluded spot next to a fence somewhere away from people so they could down three beers each and Louis could silently wallow in his failures. Instead, they were quickly spotted by a few of the other roadies who had a similar idea in mind to pass the time until they had to set up for the next act. Which, if Louis was not mistaken, was press-hating Harry Styles, himself. Mr. Too-Good-For-Interviews. But Louis wasn’t bitter.

Initially, Louis wasn’t too happy when he thought they might have to share that six pack Liam managed to find, but it turned out that these guys had their own go-to stash prepared for down time between performances.

As they sat in a jagged circle in the grass, hidden by the wall of a trailer, the few of them passed around smokes, listened to the music and cheers from the crowd, and drank. Louis was pretty content with the three beers and half a joint he managed to consume. He was used to spending a healthy chunk of his time with a slight buzz from cheap grass, but he decided a little overindulgence would serve him well this weekend. It wasn’t like he never wrote anything while he was stoned. Besides, this way he was truly living the authentic experience of the rock ‘n’ roll and hippie scene. His readers would understand. Hopefully his boss would too.

Louis wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but eventually the music had stopped and work had started again. The guys chugged the last gulps of their drinks and left the cans in the grass to be dealt with later. Feeling like the mixture of substances did a little more than take the edge off, Louis didn’t know how the hell he was going to pretend he knew how to set up a stage or move equipment. He could barely pull it off when he was sober.

Instead of actually helping, like Liam was for some reason (those roadies must’ve really made him think he was one of the guys), Louis decided wandering around the stage looking busy was the best method for not actually having to do anything. Maybe he’d even toss a rolled up cable over his shoulder for decoration.

“Oh, hey. Didn’t I share a joint with you earlier?” Louis heard an unfamiliar voice ask him just as he was about to walk down the few short steps from the stage to the ground.

Now, Louis had shared many joints with many people today, but one look at this guy and his memory was suddenly triggered. Not only had he seen this guy earlier today, but he had seen his face inside a couple issues of the magazine. It was a lot clearer without the bucket hat and sunglasses.

“Yeah!” Louis said cheerily. “Niall, right?”

“That’s right. I don’t think I ever caught your name.” Niall switched the beer bottle he was holding into his left palm so they could shake hands.

“Louis. You guys really rocked, by the way.” Louis wasn’t sure how much of the show he had actually paid attention to, but he knew their music so he was probably right.

“Thanks, man. That means a lot coming from a roadie. I’m sure you’ve heard a ton of bands play.”

Louis did, but not from being a roadie. He wondered if being a rock journalist meant his compliment would’ve been worth more or less to a guy like Niall. Rock journalists were never seen as fans. They were practically the enemy. Then again, no one here knew his true identity. He felt like a superhero. Well, to these people, the super villain.

“I have, definitely. Glad to finally hear you guys play, though. I’ve been a fan for a while.”

“’preciate it,” Niall grinned, raising his bottle like he was giving a cheers. Then he tilted it to his lips.

Two guys carrying a trunk of equipment approached, needing them to clear the way. Niall apologized and jogged down the stairs, signalling for Louis to follow him so they could finish this conversation away from the people doing their jobs. Or in Liam’s case, the job he was pretending to have.

“So are you staying the whole weekend?” Louis wondered, since this guy was making no effort to start packing up like his bandmates.

“I was considering it, actually. Not sure how much longer they’ll let me hang out back here, but I can’t miss Janis tomorrow. And I heard Hendrix will be here on Sunday. Might just blend into the crowd. Find a family group to take me in.”

Louis laughed, even though he couldn’t tell for sure if Niall was joking.

“I’m not sure how easy it’s going to be to make it to Sunday. It’s getting a little crazy out there,” Louis nodded in the direction of the crowd.

“Good thing you get to stay back here then, eh?” Niall said, patting him on the back.

Louis widened his eyes, stuttering out a fake laugh in his breath. “Right. Yeah.” He’d consider being more careful with his word choice, but then again, if he wasn’t getting that interview, what reason did he have to be back here?

Unless…

“Hey, Niall, do you have a minute?”

“I have a whole weekend,” he grinned, taking another sip of his beer.

“C’mere,” he said, throwing an arm around Niall as he lead him away from pretty much any person who was in ear shot. “I’m going to be honest with you, man. I’m not actually a roadie.”

Niall snorted. “Yeah. No shit.”

“How did you know?” Louis stared at him, slightly aghast.

“I haven’t seen you do any work since you got here. Are you a fan or something? How’d you sneak in?”

“I’m not a fan. Well, I am, but that’s not why I’m here.” Louis continued into his whole rant about Rolling Stone. Up-and-comer helping out a, well, band who’s been around for a few years but could always use some extra press. Whatever he could throw in to make his pitch sound more appealing this time around.

“You get the name for the magazine from the band?” Niall asked, and Louis had to keep from rolling his eyes because he heard that question at least once a week.

“No, it’s from the Bob Dylan song. Brian Jones named The Rolling Stones after taking a look at a Muddy Waters LP,” Louis explained.

“Bob Dylan…” Niall mused at the sound of the name. “You think he’ll make it out here this weekend?”

“We’re getting off topic,” Louis pressed. “What do you say? Can I interview you?”

“I should probably talk to my manager first, but…” he shrugged, “a few questions can’t hurt. Shoot.”

From the bag that was still slung across his chest, Louis pulled out his audio recorder and hit play. He asked Niall about everything he could think of off the top of his head from the release of his band’s second record to what it’s been like performing at Woodstock thus far. Nothing worthy of a cover story, but definitely a good addition to his festival story that might take a bit of steam away from his boss after he finds out Louis never got that big interview. Really, the whole point was to show a new face, and there was one new face that everyone wanted to see.

“… and, you know, I just feel like the atmosphere is so much different performing on a stage like this. You can really feel the energy and the-”

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage…”

“Oh shit, I think Harry is about to go on,” Niall said excitedly, completely losing his train of thought.

Louis paused the recorder. “You know Harry Styles?”

“I wouldn’t say I know him, but I’ve met him a few times in passing. He’s an amazing performer, really,” Niall insisted.

“Yeah, I don’t doubt it,” Louis muttered.

Okay, so maybe he was a little bitter.

“Louis, there you are!” Liam’s voice signaled his approach. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Didn’t you say this is the guy you wanted to see? Let’s watch from side stage.”

“Who’s this? Your camera man?” Niall commented before downing the rest of his beer. Based on the disappointed look on his face, it could only be assumed that he’d be soon looking for a new one.

“Camera man?” Liam gave Louis a funny look.

Internally, Louis’ mind went into panic mode, but he could skill keep his cool enough to handle the situation. Possibly with the help of that mixture of foreign substances.

“Yeah,” Louis laughed, thinking on his feet. “I told Niall about how we’re working with the documentary crew. Niall, this is Liam. Anyway, who’s up to watch the show?” he asked quickly, hoping the abrupt change of subject would take the focus off of him long enough that he could come up with a better story.

As Liam happily lead the way, Louis hung back a step to whisper to Niall, “He doesn’t know I’m a journalist. I’d like to keep it that way.”

Niall seemed perplexed. “Why don’t you tell him?”

“I’m probably never going to see him again after this weekend,” Louis said passively. “Didn’t see much of a point.”

Just as they approached the stage, Harry was hopping up the steps to greet the enormous crowd. The people up front rose to their feet and the cheers reached back to the tents and vans up the hill. Before beginning, one hand rested on the mic, he took a moment to scan the tiny dots that amounted to tens of thousands of people. A smirk rested on his face as he began to speak.

“Hello, everyone,” he said, followed by some more cheering. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to play a few songs for you this evening. We seem to be in good company here, so I hope you all have a good time.”

Louis couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Before meeting the guy, he would’ve thought the modesty was real. Turned out it was just a façade to wrangle fans and trick them into liking a guy that was ‘just like them’. Louis had met other famous musicians before. He should’ve known.

The first song Harry played Louis recognized but didn’t completely know. It was off an album that he once took home from the office; one of the many free ones that the labels sent around to media to get the word out. It had to be lost somewhere, now, in the stacks of crates that lined the walls of his apartment.

Harry played one more song, this one a little more guitar heavy, before addressing the audience again. He only had one record to play through, anyway. Couldn’t need more than an hour to get through his set.

“My apologies, but I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Harry Styles, and it’s a privilege to play for all you groovy people tonight.” As he spoke, a stage tech walked up quickly to hand him an acoustic guitar to sling around his torso. “For this song I’d like you all to relax. Pass the bottle. Light up something to smoke. Share with the people around you. Make some friends.”

Harry strummed a few chords to test the tuning and volume of the new mic that was placed in front of his guitar, then began the song. The sound echoed soft across the quiet field, capturing the attention of everyone within earshot. His voice carried through perfectly pitched high notes, stretching out without running short of breath. By the end, even Louis, as bitter as he was, found himself in awe as he clapped through the applause.

Okay, so the guy had some chops when it came to performing. Didn’t mean Louis had to like him as a person.

Along with Liam and Niall, Louis stayed for the rest of the set, fighting an inner battle with wanting to hate Harry and being really damn impressed with the show he was putting on. Most bands and musicians he’d seen had stood on a stage and played music, but Harry _performed_. Right from his music and stage presence to his interesting choice of pairing a vest with a long scarf that wrapped around his curly hair and draped down his chest. He didn’t have to beg to be noticed. Eyes were naturally drawn to him, and you couldn’t help but allow him to grab hold of your attention, using that mic cable as a lasso.

Once he thanked the crowd to a chorus of applause, Harry exited the stage right next to them. He stopped to accept Niall’s compliment of a great show and exchange a quick “long-time-no-see”. Louis was watching him, and for a moment they made eye contact, but that was all. He knew Harry must’ve recognized him because he made a point to raise his eyebrows and divert his gaze right away.

“Come on,” Liam said, placing a hand on Louis’ shoulder to get his attention. “We should probably help set up for the next band.”

“Don’t you think we’ve pushed our luck enough already?” Louis said after deciding he should probably stop watching Harry walk away. He had to quit dwelling if he was going to get anything out of this weekend. “We should go back and find Zayn.”

“What? No! Look how long we’ve made it without-” Liam stopped himself when he remembered Niall was still standing next to them.

“He knows,” Louis said.

“He does?”

“I’m impressed, honestly,” Niall praised. He had somehow obtained a new beer without anyone noticing him leave.

“Look,” Louis began, “if we stay back here we have to work for free, and that’s only hoping we don’t get caught. If we go back out there then we can just enjoy ourselves and do whatever the hell we want.”

“Were you not just here when we were watching three of the performances from the side of the stage? Or eating food that was handed out to us and that we didn’t have to hunt down? Or going to a bathroom that we didn’t have to wait in line for an hour for?”

“What about Zayn? You’re just going to leave him alone for the rest of the weekend? He doesn’t even speak!”

Liam narrowed his eyes. “Are you trying to make me feel guilty?”

“Is it working?”

“If you want my two-cents, I wouldn’t mind checking out the crowd for the rest of the weekend,” Niall shrugged casually. “Like I said, I want to see Janis Joplin, but they’re trying to helicopter all the performers out of here after they play. They aren’t gonna let me stay much longer otherwise.”

“You can come hang with us then,” Louis offered gleefully, without even considering consulting Liam.

“You really don’t want to stay back here?” Liam asked Louis one more time.

“No, but if you want to you can. No one’s ratting you out, man.”

Liam sighed slowly, but ultimately agreed. Louis was right. They were pushing their luck. And leaving Zayn alone when he already lost his family group probably wasn’t the nicest move.

“Just let me use the line-up-free Port-a-Sans one last time,” Liam said, which was a good idea the other two hadn’t even thought of. Maybe they could find a few more of those sandwiches to bring along with them as well.

The group, and unlikely trio of sorts, trailed through the maze of backstage in an attempt to take in as much as they could from the mini luxuries of being around the organizers. While Liam and Niall headed over to the Port-a-Sans, Louis spotted an entire table full of snack foods. This truly was the jackpot. He marched over quickly, hoping to stuff as much into his bag as he could without looking too suspicious.

“The roads are completely blocked and flying people in and out is the only option they have. They want you out of here in the next half hour. There’s nothing I can do,” Louis heard an authoritative voice getting closer. For a second he thought it was speaking to him, until he glanced up and noticed the company.

“Tell them they can save the fuel.”

“Having you here just costs them more money. They want you to land, perform, then get out of here so they can move on to the next act. You had a good show and you got paid. What else do you need out of this place?”

“I just don’t understand why I can’t stay the weekend. It’s not like I’m asking to be paid for another performance.”

“Look, it’s probably for the best. You start a three month tour next week. Go home and get some rest for a few days. We’re taking off in twenty.”

Louis had done a good job of making himself go unnoticed until Harry stepped towards the table to fill up a paper cup with water from the a pitcher. But when he glanced up, it was hard for Louis to pretend he wasn’t staring directly at him. Harry looked back down at his hands to take a drink, then he spoke.

“You’re that rock journalist, right?”

Louis took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah. It’s Louis.”

“I know your name.”

What a productive conversation, Louis thought sarcastically.

“Was that your manager?” he asked, even though it was really none of his business.

“You heard all that, eh?”

“Some of it. I was standing right here. Would’ve been hard not to.”

“They’re trying to kick us all out instead of letting us stay for the festival,” Harry told him even though they had just been over the fact that Louis heard all of this.

“Why do you want to stay, anyway? That’s three days with no shower, limited food, and shitting outdoors.”

It almost looked as if Harry was going to laugh, but then he said, “And great music.”

“Don’t you get to see great music be performed all the time, though? You travel all over for that exact reason.”

“You don’t get to be in the audience as much once you start to be the one on the stage.” He downed the rest of his water and reached for more.

Was Louis supposed to feel sorry for this guy? He was getting rich by being “the one on the stage”. This wasn’t the type of career you got forced into.

“Just do what Niall is doing,” Louis remarked with a laugh. “Join the crowd for the rest of the weekend.”

An aggressive arm was thrown around Louis’ shoulders, followed by the question, “Talking about me?”

“You staying back for the whole fair?” Harry asked Niall, looking somewhat surprised.

“Yeah, I’m gonna hang out with these guys.” He pointed a thumb at Liam who had also returned. “Why? You thinking about staying too?”

“Think I could join you guys?”

_What?!_ No, this is not what Louis meant at all.

Louis tried to interject with a half-hearted laugh, “Actually, I was just jok-”

“Yeah, man. Of course you can!” Liam said eagerly, without even considering consulting Louis. Louis would argue that inviting Harry was different from inviting Niall, but he couldn’t without completely giving himself away.

Then again, Harry agreeing to keep his secret for the next two days was highly unlikely, so he was screwed either way. Louis would consider going off on his own – he did come here on his own, after all – but he was starting to think he found some friends in Niall and Liam, and even Zayn even though he hadn’t said a word. That left only one option: throw on the charm and try to get along with Harry for the next three days.

Before the four of them left, Harry had to go searching for his manager to let him know what was going on. The argument lasted about five minutes before Harry was back, but his manager was stomping towards them with a scowl scribbled on his face.

“Let’s get out of here before he tries to physically restrain me,” Harry said, so they took off running.

Harry was leading the pack even though he had no clue where they were actually headed, so when Louis made the sharp left towards the opening in the fence, he had to call after the others to follow him. The guy assigned to guard to opening seemed less concerned with people going out than people coming in, so they barged right through. Once they were on the other side, Harry looked a little taken aback.

“This is a lot of people,” he observed, speaking to Liam over his shoulder.

Harry wasn’t wrong. When Louis and Liam had first got backstage, the crowd seemed to be in the tens of thousands. If Louis had to guess now, he’d say it reached the hundreds of thousands.

“Didn’t it look like more people from the stage?” Liam asked.

“Looks like an audience from the stage. This is just a lot of people.”

“Not much of a people person?” Louis asked from the lead of their single file line while Niall had taken the rear.

“Not much of a strangers person.”

“You’re walking with three strangers right now,” Niall pointed out.

“You and I have met a few times before,” Harry said. “That counts.”

“Hardly.”

The sun had set now, so trying to find their way through the maze of hippies and their belongings proved even more difficult. Especially with the odd few who could recognize Harry or Niall even in the dark. “I think it’ll be kind of hard to avoid strangers here,” Louis pointed out, trying to find some sort of direct path they could follow. The effort was virtually worthless.

“I didn’t say I wanted to avoid them,” Harry claimed pointedly. “If I was really that closed off, do you think I would’ve agreed to stay back with you?”

Louis didn’t like that tone too much, but he would’ve had to turn around to glare at him and that would just be too obvious.

“Not to change the subject, but, uh, does anyone actually know where we’re going?” Niall asked the group.

Right then was when Louis realized that he, in fact, had absolutely no idea where he was going. He knew the general direction to head in was away from the stage, but that was about where his memory of where they left Zayn ended.

“It’s somewhere over here,” Louis said so he wouldn’t worry the two newest friends. Well, one friend and Harry.

“Do you remember what the van looked like?” Liam shouted ahead.

“It was old and red, wasn’t it?” Louis answered.

“Oh good,” Harry said. “You have van.”

“The hippie couple who we left our mute friend with has a van. All we have is a change of clothes and some stolen food,” Louis said, hoping to make their situation sound as unpleasant as possible.

“Sorry, your _mute_ friend?” Niall clarified.

“I met him two days ago and he still hasn’t spoken. We don’t know why,” Liam said, then spoke louder to Louis. “I also brought a blanket!”

“Good thinking,” Louis praised.

He then turned to look at Harry, who seemed to just now realize that he was in a little over his head. _Good_ , Louis thought. Now he wasn’t the only one moving rapidly through the stages of culture shock. Plus, maybe Harry would soon change his mind and realize he didn’t want to spend the next three days in temporary squalor for the sake of music.

“Friends!” Louis heard a voice say, then quickly turned to greet a familiar face. Nearly half an hour of aimless walking and somehow they had stumbled on the right path.

“Pam!” Liam said, which Louis was grateful for because there was no way he remembered her name. He remembered Sky’s name, but only because of that “rain comes from the sky” comment he still wasn’t sure the meaning of.

“You brought new friends,” she pointed out. It seemed as though Zayn had not moved from the spot where he was sitting when they left, but now there was a fire built next to him where Sky was sitting with Rain cuddled in his lap.

“This is Harry and Niall,” Louis said, pointing to each of them.

“Oh yeah, I know you,” Sky said, looking at Harry.

Harry gave him a funny look. “Have we met before?”

“No, but your friend had some great acid.”

Harry breathed a short laugh through his nose, barely curling his lip. “You mean Joey?”

“Yeah!” Sky exclaimed. “Great guy, man. Is he here with you?”

“Nah. Guests weren’t really part of the deal at this gig,” he said. “Nice to meet you…”

“Sky,” he said, stretching his arm up instead of standing to shake Harry’s hand since he had Rain. He then introduced her along with Pam. Louis supposed he should’ve done it himself, but he was still feeling a little out of it from all the substances messing with his brain at the moment.

“Sit with us,” Pam said kindly, her smile illuminated by the orange flames. Louis was more than happy to, especially since Zayn generously offered him a smoke after he took the seat next to him. The melody he was quietly strumming on his guitar made for a peaceful background noise.

The others joined in the circle, Harry the most hesitant as he sat next to Sky. He pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. From her spot on her father’s lap, Rain smiled up at him, and he did the same back. Louis realized then that it was probably the first time he saw Harry smile. Even in his photos he was often stoic, but right now across the fire, he actually looked real and human.

Louis kept watching him through the evening, which was probably a bit creepy, but he diverted his eyes every time he was at risk of being noticed. He couldn’t help himself. There was something about Harry that so strangely intriguing. The way he could so easily talk with anyone, the subtle expressions on his face that left his feelings up to the imagination, but still gave enough of a hint to get you on the right track. Finding him interesting didn’t mean he liked him, but it did make Louis question if he would be kicking himself later for not trying to get to know Harry. Even if it was off the record.

But right now, as a few more strangers joined the fire and began sharing whatever they brought to smoke, the drowsiness taking over Louis was undeniable. He did have a long day, after all. Checking his watch, he realized it was nearly ten and the lack of sunlight was fueling the chilly breeze. The noise from their surroundings made it clear that he wouldn’t get a full night’s sleep, especially with the music carrying on, but trying for a few hours wouldn’t hurt.

“Hey Pam,” Louis whispered to the woman sitting next to him. “Would you mind if I crashed in the van for a little while?”

“You’re more than welcome to,” she smiled.

After thanking her, Louis stood up, hoping to make a quick escape into the isolation of the van, but his attempt wasn’t enough.

“Where are you going?” Liam asked.

“It’s still so early,” Niall tagged on.

“Just taking a nap,” Louis insisted. “You can wake me in an hour if I’m really missing out on the fun.”

“We’ll hold you to that,” Harry said, and this time the smile was aimed at him.

Louis lay down on the thin layers of patterned pillows and blankets, taking one to pull over his legs. He removed just his jeans, hoping that wasn’t too strange, but the door had been closed behind him anyway. As he stared at the intricate tapestry covering the walls and ceiling, and the shadows through the windows of people dancing in the night, he thought of how nice it was to be part of something like this. He wondered when he’d actually start feeling like he was a part of it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Day Two – Saturday**

Louis really did mean to sleep for only about an hour. He figured either the noise would wake him up or one of the people he met yesterday would. Instead, the sun took the job at around nine the next morning. It was likely that he did miss out on some of the fun last night, but there’s only so much fun you can have when you’re as exhausted as he was last night. He squinted his eyes open and immediately sensed the presence of others surrounding him. Also occupying the back of the van looked to be Harry, Liam, Pam, and Rain cuddled into her side. Louis guessed that the others had already woke up, or more likely, slept outside since there wasn’t a lot of space in here to begin with.

Liam was closest to Louis, making trying to sneak out the sliding door a lot harder because he was cornered in. He tried to crawl over the gaps between limbs, collected his bag because he knew that’s where his cigarettes were, and eventually escaped to the outside.

Based on the amount of people who were already up and socializing, Louis would sooner guess that they instead never went to sleep. As he straightened his back, the cracks and pops reminded him that sleeping on the ground never was the comfiest arrangement. Outside he only found Zayn, sat in front of the burnt out fire and reading a newspaper he got from who-knows-where. Almost immediately, Louis realized he was walking through mud.

“Hey,” Louis said to Zayn as he pulled a cigarette from his pack.

“Morning,” Zayn replied, looking over his newspaper.

“Did it rain last night?” Louis asked, lifting his shoes slowly and trying to shake off what he could.

“Quite a bit. I don’t know how you slept through it.”

Louis lit the tip of his cigarette and glanced around at the muddy aftermath that—hold on a second…

“You can talk?!” Louis exclaimed, snapping his head back to Zayn.

“Of course I can talk,” he said. He was fishing in his pocket and pulled out a tiny cigarette. One containing a much different substance.

“Then why weren’t you talking yesterday?”

“Sometimes people talk too much,” he commented, placing the joint between his lips. Louis watched, still slightly bewildered, as Zayn pulled out a Zippo and took the first puff.

“So you just choose not to talk sometimes? But why?”

Zayn stared at him for a moment, and then looked away as smoked flowed out his nostrils.

“Do you just not like to talk to people?” Louis tried again.

His question was met with another blank stare. Zayn then pinched the joint between two fingers and offered Louis a hit, but he declined. It was too early, even for him. Louis got the hint pretty quick that Zayn had decided to fall silent again without actually answering why. Looked like Louis wasn’t going to be going to him for interviews when he started working on the culture section for his article.

“So what do I have to do to make you talk again?” Louis asked even though he knew he was wasting his breath. Zayn only let more smoke fall out of his mouth rather than even the hint of a sound. This was pointless.

Louis looked around, feeling unsure while he finished his cigarette and stomped it into the ground. He hadn’t really thought of what to do with his day. Of course there was the concert, but the music was still hours away from starting again. He could always write, but he needed a few experiences to write about first. Now that he thought about it, the first thing on his agenda should probably be to make a morning trip to the Port-a-Sans.

He turned to Zayn and said, “Do you know where the nearest— Fuck, never mind.” It was going to take some getting used to, having someone around who acted like language didn’t even exist half the time.

From the van behind him, a ruffling sounded before Harry appeared through the thin layer of tie-dyed cloth that covered the opening when the door wasn’t shut. “Morning,” he said.

It was nice to see someone who could converse, even if it was Harry.

“Hey,” Louis replied, folding his arms. “It would probably be useless to ask you if you know where the restrooms are, wouldn’t it?”

“Probably, but I’d be glad to help find them.”

“You don’t have to,” Louis said passively.

“Actually, I do. According to nature, anyway.”

Louis eyed him as unthreateningly as he could. There was really no way out of this one. They were both headed to the same place, and both needed help getting there. All he could do was hope that the bathrooms were nearby and their time alone together would be limited.

Louis decided to ask, “Do you know where Sky is? Or Niall?”

“You’ve been up longer than me. Do you know?” he was looking at Zayn, which just made Louis laugh.

“He doesn’t speak,” Louis told him.

“Oh, this is your mute friend?”

Zayn glared at him.

“Yes. Well, no. He does speak, just…” Louis trailed off to glance at Zayn whose eyes had already fallen back down to his newspaper. Louis noticed the bold title and picture highlighting Vietnam on the front page. “Selectively,” he finished.

“Everyone else is still sleeping,” Harry informed him, reminding Louis of the task at hand.

“Right. Well, I guess we better ask around,” Louis suggested, hesitating to actually make a move.

“Should we go then?” Harry arched his eyebrows, looking around awkwardly.

“Yeah,” Louis nodded quickly before this got any more uncomfortable. He decided to take the lead even though he had about as much clue about how to get around this place as Harry did. “Let’s go.”

Harry skipped forward, following close behind as Louis paced along the grass. They were far enough away from the stage that everyone wasn’t so tightly compacted. A zig-zagged path had been accidentally formed between the tents and cars parked at the top of the hill. Louis stopped a woman to ask if she knew where the restrooms were, and she told them that if they kept walking in the same direction they would eventually recognize it by the line. That wasn’t very reassuring.

“How long have you been a reporter?” Harry asked, presumably to make conversation because Louis sure as hell didn’t have anything to say.

“I’m not a reporter. I’m a music journalist,” Louis said pointedly, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jacket. There was still a slight chill in the air and their shoes were getting coated in mud from trudging through it.

“What’s the difference?”

“I don’t write about news. I write about music.”

Harry paused, and Louis could feel his chilly glare even though he refused to make eye contact.

“How long have you been a music journalist, then?” he asked instead, trying a little too hard to sound nice.

Louis shrugged. “About four months.” There was no sense lying. Harry already said no to the interview.

“Four months? How old are you?”

“Twenty-two. Just finished my degree.” Louis didn’t know why he was telling him all this. If Harry wasn’t going to let him have an interview, Louis sure as hell wasn’t going to give him one. “How old are you?”

“Didn’t do your research before you were going to interview me?” He smiled so Louis would know it was a joke.

“There isn’t an interview.”

Harry’s face fell a bit, then he sniffed to try and cover it up. “I’m twenty,” he said.

Louis already knew that, but he wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

“You’ve done a lot to be only twenty.” It was an observation, not a compliment.

“I didn’t get a degree from college. Didn’t even apply.”

“This seems better than college,” Louis pointed out, looking around at the people surrounding them. Even more were starting to wake up.

“For me, I supposed it is. It’s all I can do.”

Louis glanced at him and smiled, trying to look more friendly than smug even though he did mean it to be the latter. “You better hope it lasts, then.”

Harry didn’t say anything, and for a moment Louis thought he might’ve offended him. But when he looked up, Harry was squinting his eyes and shielding the sun from them with the back of his hand. Louis followed his gaze to a long line of people.

“Is that the line for the bathrooms?” Harry asked, his eyes wide in surprise.

Louis scanned the crowd until he found the beginning, stopped in front of a row of Port-a-Sans. He grimaced.

“Looks like it.”

“There’s gotta be like a hundred people waiting.”

“How can they even wait that long?”

“I don’t even want to know what those look like on the inside.”

“Well, you won’t because we are not waiting in that line,” Louis said pointedly, turning away from it to walk in the other direction.

“What? We have to. I’ll spare the details, but nature _is_ calling,” Harry said, quickening his steps to keep up with him.

“Good, because we’re going to go pay nature a visit.”

Louis kept walking briskly towards the bushes ahead of them, even more tents visible within the trees further down. Jesus, how far back did this site go? They had to tread through the long grass to get to a more secluded area. It took Harry another moment before he caught on, then he stopped dead in his tracks with his mouth hanging open.

“I am not going in a bush.”

“You can go behind a tree, if you like,” Louis countered.

“I’d rather wait in that line.”

“You’ll be waiting over an hour.”

Harry crossed his arms, not budging. If he was being honest, Louis didn’t care too much what Harry did. If he wanted to go stand with a bunch of hippies and be uncomfortable for an hour, that was on him. But the reality was, those lines were never letting up, and eventually those Port-a-Sans were going to be deemed unusable. They were going to have to deal with this sooner or later.

“Well I’m not staying with you to do it,” Harry finally said.

“Aw, why not? I was hoping we could cross streams,” Louis said with the corner of his mouth raised in a sarcastic smirk.

Harry turned his head to scoff, but then his face fell when the reality of the situation hit him. Letting his arms fall to his sides, Harry sighed. Actually, it came out more like a huff. “Don’t come find me. I’ll find you.”

“Fine,” Louis snorted while Harry was already taking off deeper into the woods. “Don’t get yourself too lost!” he added, and Harry only glanced over his shoulder, but didn’t say anything in reply.

Because he definitely was not as nonchalant about this whole thing as he made Harry think he was, Louis took off the other way, also looking for as much privacy he could find. This proved to be hard, since the woods turned out to be a popular place for many activities. Louis didn’t even want to think about what was going on in the distant grass where he could see the top of a head looking down, as well as knees propped up next to it. They didn’t look like they belonged to the same person.

With birds loudly chirping in the trees above him, Louis got as far away from people as he could and finally decided to stop near the biggest tree he could find. This would have to do.

Louis vastly underestimated how much extra work just fulfilling basic needs was going to be this weekend. He was really going to learn to appreciate a roof and running water once he got back to his apartment in San Francisco. Oh God, and his bed. He missed his bed most of all last night. He was grateful that Sky and Pam shared their van and blankets, but nothing could compare to a mattress and pillows. He already knew his next sleep in that bed would probably be the best sleep of his life.

“Hi!” a high-pitched voice said, and Louis panicked to put himself away before even considering looking in the direction of the source. “How was your first day?”

Once his fly was up, Louis turned his head to see a girl approaching him with soft features and a face that he recognized almost immediately. “Déjà vu,” he said as she slowly walked closer to him.

“Just Deja,” she smiled. “But you remembered.”

“Yeah, uh,” Louis scratched the back of his neck. “Why did you… Didn’t you see that I was…?”

“How did you meet Harry Styles?” she asked, now seeming intrigued. He supposed they were just going to ignore the fact that she greeted him while he was, uh, taking care of some business.

Louis looked around to see if Harry had already come back, but he was nowhere in sight. “How did you know I was with him?”

“I saw you by the bathrooms. I wasn’t going to wait in that line either,” she laughed.

“Oh,” Louis laughed too. That made more sense. “It’s a long story,” he said, not about to get into details with this stranger who really seemed to fit all definitions of the word.

“You guys friends?”

“No,” Louis said quickly, then realized that might take more explaining than the opposite answer. “I mean, sort of. We are now, I suppose.”

They were definitely not friends.

“Did you meet him when you were backstage?” she wondered, taking Louis completely by surprise because how the _hell_ could she know that?

“How did-?”

“I have some friends working back there. They let me hang out for a while. I saw you, but you looked busy,” she shrugged. Louis didn’t see how a job like that would give the option to bring a guest, but he also wasn’t sure how much he believed her. “Did you invite him back with you so you could get your interview?”

“I never told you about that,” Louis said, his tone rising slightly because this was getting too weird. “Are you stalking me?”

Deja laughed again. “Of course not.”

“Then how did you know about the interview?”

“I told you, I have friends.”

The way she said it and the smile that lit up her face made it hard for Louis to be suspicious. Don’t get him wrong, he was definitely still creeped out that she knew all of this about him, but her concern for him seemed genuine. Plus, he was sort of itching to talk about this interview, even if it was just to complain.

“He said he won’t do the interview. He hates the press,” Louis told her, still keeping his distance.

“Are you sure that’s the reason?”

He shrugged. “That’s what he said.”

“Maybe it’s something more,” she reasoned. “He’s done interviews before. He’s good at them. That’s how he got half the country to fall in love with him. Could be that something’s going on that no one really knows about.”

Louis scoffed, crossing his arms. “I’m not a shrink.”

“Maybe he doesn’t need a shrink. Maybe he just needs a friend.”

Trying not to roll his eyes, Louis picked his next words carefully. “If I be his friend then I can’t write about him. It would be too biased.”

“But if you already aren’t getting the interview, you have nothing to lose. If anything, you have so much more to gain.”

Louis turned around and rubbed the heels of his hands over his eyes. This was not as simple as she was making it seem. He didn’t need another friend. He needed the interview. That was the whole point in coming here. Harry was already scared of the press – of them being too nosey and revealing too much. Besides, it’s not like Harry would ever trust him as a friend to begin with. Louis was technically the enemy, after all.

“Look, I can’t just-” Louis opened his eyes again, but Deja was gone. He did a full 360, looking in the distance and listening for the rustling of the trees, but his eyes weren’t even closed long enough for her to escape his sight.

“Are you decent?” Louis heard another voice call out, but this one was distinctly male. He turned towards it and noticed Harry about forty feet away.

“Yeah,” he called back, starting to walk towards him. But Louis couldn’t help himself from peeking over his shoulder every few moments to see if Deja was still there.

“Do you want to head back to find Niall and your friends?” he asked once Louis was in closer earshot, but the question went completely over his head.

“Did you see a girl with me?” Louis asked, confusion still written all over his face.

“No. Are you looking for a girl?”

He was about to say yes, but then Louis shook his head slowly once he thought better of it. “No,” he said, eyes still scanning the bushes.

What the hell? Did he imagine all of that? He didn’t remember taking anything since he’d been here. Then again, he did sleep in the back of a van full of strangers. Who knows what someone could’ve slipped him.

“You alright, man?” Harry asked, slowing his steps since Louis was barely walking anyway.

“Yeah. Just tired, still,” he said.

He couldn’t get the image of Deja out of his mind. Who even was she? And how did she know all of that stuff about him? The only other person who had acknowledged the existence of Deja was Zayn, and all they were doing was sitting together. But what a great help Zayn would be in solving this mystery with his refusal to talk. Except for those few words he said to Louis this morning, that is.

This weekend had to be some sort of big acid trip. There was no way any of it could be real. Maybe he’d wake up in a few hours and still be on the plane. He decided to pinch himself only because it was the oldest trick in the book. He squeezed a tiny bit of skin on his arm, but the pain still came. That must’ve meant this was all real. Well, it meant that is wasn’t a dream.

He was too sober for this.

“Hey,” Louis said, trying to appear slightly more normal. “Let’s go back to the van and see who has some grass. I need a new state of mind.”

Harry grinned, picking up his pace. “I think that’s the best idea you’ve had all morning.”

It wasn’t until they got back to the van – after about half an hour of searching – did Louis feel a grumbling in his stomach. He remembered the he still had those sandwiches in his bag, even though they were probably crushed by his camera and notebook by now, but it turned the new friends had breakfast covered. Pam was handing out peanut butter sandwiches to the boys from the loaf of bread she either brought or somehow acquired.

“Hungry?” she smiled handing one each to Louis and Harry.

“How resourceful of you,” Harry complimented, happily accepting the offer.

After thanking Pam, Louis decided to go bother Niall and Liam who were passing a joint back and forth behind the van. The idea sounded like it would go great with his breakfast. Actually, at this point it was almost lunch.

“Where’d you and Harry go?” Liam asked as soon as he saw Louis approaching.

Louis folded his legs together as he lowered himself on the grass and spoke over his first bite. “Tried to find the bathrooms.”

“Those lines are ridiculous. Just piss in a bush, man,” Niall said before taking his hit.

“That was the unfortunate conclusion we came to,” Louis sighed.

The ground was quite wet still from the night before, which wasn’t the most comfortable but Louis didn’t care much. He had seen people walking around covered in mud, half naked, and even fully naked, so a water mark on the back of his pants wasn’t much of a concern. As they smoked, they watched the people around them trying to pass time, fulfill their basic needs, and make new friends as they waited for the music to start for the day. Mud was abundant and blankets and campsites were soaked. Even their campsite had faced a fair amount of the impact, but at least they had shelter. He still felt for the others, though. The last thing anyone at this festival needed was something to make surviving the next few days even harder.

“So what do you do in California?” Liam asked, drawing Louis’ attention back to the circle.

“For now, I wait tables,” he said easily, which wasn’t a lie. His job wasn’t exactly paying him a worthwhile salary, so a few shifts at the diner around the block on the weekends paid for his groceries, at the very least.

“So you work for The Man?” Liam raised an eyebrow.

Niall scoffed. “Most people here probably do,” he said. “Who do you think I work for? The Man is the only reason anyone is here.”

Liam eyed him for a moment. “You a capitalist?

“I started playing for my band when I was sixteen. Worked shit jobs to help my parents pay the bills since I was eleven years old. Our second album got them out of a one bedroom apartment that they lived in with me and my brother. The people who claim they hate money are the ones who have never had to struggle for it when they didn’t have a choice.”

That shut Liam up real quick, but Niall didn’t seem angry about making his point. His statement was simply a new perspective. Possibly one Liam hadn’t heard before.

“What do you do?” Louis decided to ask Liam, realizing the two of them knew very little about each other.

“I, uh… I’ve done some odd jobs,” he admitted slowly. “Nothing permanent. I left home when I was seventeen. The summer before my last year of high school, I met these people who were going to follow a band on tour. I went without telling my parents, called them from a payphone about a day later, then just never went back.”

“How old around you now?” Niall wondered.

“Just turned twenty. I guess it’s been almost three years then, huh?”

“Where are you originally from,” asked Louis.

“Missouri. At this point, though, I’ve been all over the country. I know it’s not stable or consistent, but I like it. Maybe one day I’ll find something, but…” he shook his head.

Louis thought maybe he judged Liam too quickly. When he first met Liam, he was this guy who fit so well into a stereotype. A kid who was a little flighty and reckless and was just kind of existing. But he was trying to figure out who he was while doing something that, to him, felt a little more interesting than the usual lives he’d seen everyone around him live. And while he was still young enough to do it.

From the dark grey clouds above them, Louis felt a few droplets of rain fall. He looked up and more fell onto his cheeks and forehead and raced down like tears. _Great,_ he thought as he wiped them away, _The last thing this place needs is more rain._

Out of the corner of his eye, Louis noticed Harry poke his head around the van. He looked at Louis first, who offered him a tight lipped smile. Both Niall and Liam’s faces lit up when they saw him, saying hello and asking how his morning had been. Everyone was always happy to see Harry, it seemed like. Not that Louis wasn’t, he just… Well, he wasn’t.

“Hey guys,” Harry smiled. Louis looked down at his feet because every time he saw that smile his stomach started twisting. He didn’t understand why, but he hated that Harry made him feel any sort of way. Maybe it was because he was a walking constant reminder that Louis would never get that damn interview he came for.

Harry was about to sit with them when Rain came running behind him, her tiny feet moving as quickly as she could make them.

“Mommy and daddy want you to come play on the big slide,” she cheered with her hands in the air, then turned around to presumably run back to her parents.

The four of them exchanged confused looks. “What big slide?” Niall asked, but no one had the answer.

All together, they stood up and followed the trail of the four-year-old to see what exactly she was talking about. On the other side of the van, the whole group was on the move, joining into the flow of the crowd. Louis had no idea what this big slide was all about since he’d seen nothing of the sort, but it seemed to have captured the attention of the surrounding festival goers. Although, getting their attention didn’t seem to be so hard.

“What’s going on?” Harry asked. Louis didn’t even notice that they had ended up side-by-side. He wasn’t sure what would make Harry think he would have any more answers than himself.

“Maybe they’re giving away free acid,” Louis said, only half joking. He wouldn’t exactly be against that being the case. The only thing that goes better with rock music than a few tokes with your friends is a good trip. Emphasis on the word ‘good’.

“What does that have to do with a slide?”

“Maybe it’s New York slang.”

“I can’t believe a toddler is more up-to-date on drug slang than we are.”

“What a hip toddler,” Louis laughed, then coughed because he wasn’t sure exactly how Harry had made him laugh.

All of the sudden, everyone had come to a halt and the mutterings of cheers came from in front of them. But not the clapping kind after a song ended. This was the noise you made when you were riding a roller coaster, or about to go down a slide.

“Oh, wow,” Harry mumbled, looking at everyone in the open space in front of them. At least twenty people, covered in mud head to toe, were racing down a short hill of mud as rain fell harder around them. Some rode on their backs and others on their stomachs. They looked like they were having the time of their lives, but all Louis could think of was how that mud was going to get into every crevice oh their bodies, and how there were absolutely no showers anywhere on these festival grounds.

Without warning, Sky ran out to the open space, stripped off his shirt, and took a dive down the hill. His body coated with mud as the crowd cheered him on.

“These people are crazy,” Louis said so only Harry could hear.

“Do they think the rain is going to wash them clean?” Harry wondered.

“Maybe there really is free acid somewhere around here…”

Neither of them saw Niall run up next, but he was met with even more cheering as he stood at the top of the slide. It was hard to tell if it was because he was being recognized or because of the way he was throwing mud on himself to prepare before he made the dive. Since he didn’t remove his shirt, the mud instead suctioned it to his body.

“You gonna take a dive?” Liam asked, placing a hand on each of their shoulders.

“Probably not,” Harry said, just as Louis blurted, “Don’t count on it.”

“Well, I am,” Liam announced, then pushed through them. He fell on his back during a sprint and slid twenty or thirty feet down the hill.

“Maybe we’re the crazy ones,” Harry said, slicking back his long curls that were getting soaked from the rain. “Acting like we’re too good to have fun.”

“We’re not too good. We’re just avoiding the annoyance of finding dried mud behind our knees and under our armpits by the time we head home from this place.”

As soon as Louis finished his defence, he felt the hard splatter of something wet against the side of his face. After the shock of the impact, he reached a hand up to wipe the mud from below his eye. Harry was just about doubled over in laughter.

“Something funny?” Louis asked sternly, still feeling the slight sting on his cheek. Someone must’ve hurled that mud ball from across the crowd.

“You kind of deserved it,” Harry admitted through a grimace.

“I did, did I?” he said mockingly, then started to lean down.

“Don’t you dare,” Harry warned.

Louis grabbed the biggest fistful of wet mud he could manage. The squishy feeling felt filthy between his fingers.

“Don’t worry. The rain will wash it off,” Louis assured, then smeared the mud right across Harry’s left cheek, making sure to properly cover the surface area. When he dropped his hand, Louis wore a proud smirk. All around them, a full on mud fight had commenced.

Trying to fight off a smile himself, Harry said, “Don’t think you’re getting away with that.” Then he ducked to the ground to quickly grab another handful of mud and tossed it in Louis’ direction. Louis turned half way around so it would only hit his back.

Louis took a few steps back as he tried to collect more ammo, dodging other flying mud balls in the process. Harry ducked to avoid the next throw, but was ready with another in the process. Louis dove out of the way, which completely destroyed the original plan to not get completely soaked in mud. Now here he was, practically covered head-to-toe like the others. So if he was going to have to leave here dirty, then so was Harry.

When he stood back up, he took Harry by the elbow, accepting the mud ball to the chest he’d have to take in return.

“What are we doing?” Harry asked as Louis rushed them through the crowd.

“Being one of the crazy ones,” Louis said, then aimed their sprint towards the hill and pulled Harry to the ground with him.

Harry yelped as he fell onto his back and Louis dropped to his stomach. The sleek mud and rainwater carried them across the slice in the crowd, caking onto their bodies and surely leaving an extra layer behind their knees and under their armpits to be found dried up later.

Louis didn’t even realize he had grabbed hold of Harry’s hand until they started to slow down and Harry let him go. Goofy smiles were stamped on both of their faces as they stood up, Louis’ heart beating extra hard from all types of thrill. They took in the cheers around them. This time, it couldn’t be because Harry was recognized. The mud was working practically as a full body mask.

“I think it’s more fun being one of the crazy ones,” Harry said, throwing one arm over Louis’ shoulders as they started to make their way back to their friends.

“I think you’re right,” Louis agreed, smile wide.

 

The rain didn’t let up until the early afternoon, just after the music started for the day. There wasn’t much of a point in trying to get near the stage again. By now, hundreds of thousands of people had journeyed to Bethel, which had turned into a town-wide parking lot. Getting in or out would be nearly impossible, especially considering the shutdown of all highways coming into the area. The Aquarian Exposition had truly taken over the state, and would soon be known across the country.

Once the sky started to clear and the mud had long dried onto their skin, almost falling off in pieces, the ones who had opted to participate in the slide and mud fight decided to head to the river a short walk away to try and clean off. It was the closest thing they had to a bath or shower, after all.

When they stopped back at the van to pick up a couple of towels and a change of clothes, Pam sent them off with a bottle of shampoo and a bar of soap since she had thankfully over-prepared. Louis also brought along his bag to stuff everything in, and because he knew those sandwiches were still in there

Out of their group, most of them made the practical decision of keeping their underwear on as they waded in the icy water with strangers. As it turned out, they were in the minority. Surrounding them was more bare skin than anyone expected to see, and coming from people who had no shame at all about it. That shamelessness inspired both Sky and Niall to ditch the briefs and let the water truly do its job of cleaning out every crevice. This was one part of the “crazy” idea that Louis would not be convinced into joining. Public nudity was really not his thing.

 “I swear I’ve washed it three times and the water still rinses out brown,” Harry said, lathering another dollop of shampoo into his hair.

“Well you do have a lot of that stuff,” Louis commented, pointing to the once curly locks that had fallen flat under the weight of the water.

“Doesn’t seem so bad when you aren’t washing mud out of it.”

In the river they stood about waist deep, Louis hesitating to dunk his head because the sun was hiding behind the clouds instead of warming up the water. He splashed some water onto his arms, but was yet to build his nerve up to Harry’s.

“Pass the soap, will you?” Harry asked, trading the shampoo bottle for it. The two of them had been hogging it all while the others decided to treat this like pool time.

“This stuff is never coming off,” Louis complained. He was scrubbing at a patch of dried mud just below his elbow.

“Not if you’re too afraid to put water on it, it’s not.”

“What do you think your body temperature is right now?”

“Oh, just perfect. This is refreshing,” Harry grinned, floating onto his back with the soap bar still in his hand.

“I’m pretty sure your lips are turning blue.”

“Does it suit me? I always thought red was more my colour. Maybe a dark pink.”

“Red is a bold choice. Then again, so is blue.”

Harry smirked at the response, holding Louis’ gaze for a moment. Clearly it was just to distract him, because without warning he reached up and grabbed Louis’ hand, catching him off balance to yank him down into the water. Louis let out a scream as the icy water enveloped him before realizing that there were a lot of other people around who could definitely hear him.

“There, now you’ll get clean,” Harry said, floating away in case Louis decided to get his revenge.

“You could’ve drowned me,” Louis whined. His teeth were chattering, but they wouldn’t be so much without him forcing them to do so.

“Your head didn’t even go under. Although, it should.” Harry reached forward to pull a clump of mud that hadn’t even dried yet from the top of Louis’ head.

“I’m going to freeze and it will be your fault.”

Harry shook his head with a laugh, then took the bottle of shampoo from Louis’ grasp while he handed the soap back. “Turn around,” he said, standing up while Louis remained crouched. By now, the parts of Louis’ body that were under water had gotten used to the temperature, but he wasn’t going to admit that to Harry. He found himself quite enjoying this back and forth.

Louis turned around slowly, then felt dribbles of water fall over his ears and down his back from Harry wetting his hair. “What are you doing?!” he exclaimed, scrunching his head into his shoulders.

“Stop being such a baby,” Harry teased, then his hands were massaging Louis’ scalp. Louis could feel the bubbles forming in his hair from the soap between Harry’s fingers.

“Are you doing this because it’s going to force me to dunk my head under?”

“I’m doing this because your hair is matted with mud and you’re being a baby,” Harry retorted.

Louis had to admit, the feeling against his head as the shampoo lathered was quite nice. He even found that his eyes had fallen closed to relax, but then shot back open when he realized that might be a little weird. Then again, so was having someone wash your hair in a river. At least Harry couldn’t see his face, which also needed to be cleaned of dirt. Deciding he could do that himself, Louis cupped some water into his hands and scrubbed off what he could with the bar of soap.

“Hey, um,” Louis began, remembering something that had been on his mind since yesterday. Since the two of them seemed to be getting along for a rare moment, he decided now was the best time to bring it up. “You didn’t happen to mention the interview to anyone we’ve been hanging out with, have you?”

A beat passed, then… “Louis, I know th-”

“I’m not asking because I still want the interview. It’s just that I’ve kind of been keeping my job a secret from these guys. I know journalists aren’t exactly the most well-liked around here. You can speak for that as good as anyone.”

“I mean…” Harry began like he was going to defend himself, but he had nothing. He decided to turn it around instead. “It’s not like you’re reporting on the war. You write about music, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but I was still hoping you could keep this between us. I don’t want anyone acting weird around me because they found out I’m writing an article about them.”

“But you _are_ writing an article about them?” Harry clarified.

“I’m writing about my experience here. To document what this festival was, or is, I guess. This culture, it’s so fascinating right now. These people completely reject the cultural norms to live lives of peace and love, and this weekend is a great example of their power when brought together. I guess it’s just not the easiest idea to pitch.”

“I think you’re doing a pretty good job of it.”

Louis smiled and felt his cheeks getting embarrassingly red. Without saying anything, he tried to rub them with one hand to make it go away.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Harry decided. “I’ll keep your secret if you do one thing for me.”

Of course it wouldn’t be that simple, but Louis didn’t hesitate. “What is it?”

“Part of the reason I wanted to stay is to see Jimi Hendrix. I’ve never had the chance to see him live, and it’s been rare lately that I get the chance to see anyone live at all. He’s supposed to be the last performer. Just don’t leave me alone this weekend. Help me make it to the end of the festival so I can see Hendrix.”

Louis turned around with an eyebrow raised since Harry seemed to be done with his scrubbing anyway. “That’s it? You want me to hang out with you for the rest of the weekend?”

“It’ll be easier if you have someone you know you can rely on to make is to the end of this thing, don’t you think?”

Louis smiled, then reached out his hand to shake Harry’s hand. This was the easiest deal he’d ever made. He probably would’ve stuck with him regardless. Out of necessity, of course. “You got it,” he said.

“Oh, and you gotta dunk your head,” Harry added.

“But we already shook on it!”

“Do you want to walk around with shampoo in your hair all day?”

He did have a point there.

Louis sighed, then in one motion plugged his nose and sank down until he was completely underwater. Since most of his body was already submerged, the icy feeling had dulled by now. He let himself sink until he was hovering above the ground beneath him, then glided his free hand through his hair. He tried to open his eyes, but the foggy brown colour reminded him that what they were bathing it probably wasn’t going to make him as clean as he would’ve liked.

When Louis poked his head up again, pushing the wet hair out of his face and gasping for air, Harry was still floating next to him. It wasn’t like he could leave. They did have a deal now, after all.

“Much better,” Harry grinned. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I am freezing.”

Louis rolled his eyes. He couldn’t help but laugh as he followed Harry back to shore. “Are you sure? Maybe you should just dunk your head again.”

Reaching the grassy surroundings of the river, Harry and Louis sat on the thin blanket that Liam laid out when they first got there. It was also where Louis had left his bag. Although probably not the most appetising anymore, the sandwiches from yesterday were still in there and all the walking they had to do today was making his stomach grumble.

“Want one?” Louis asked, holding one of the plastic wrapped sandwiches out. Harry glanced at it while using an old shirt to dry his hair. They had tried to rinse off their clothes, which were currently drying on the ground next to them, but the chance of those stains coming out were slim to none.

“How long have those been in there?”

“Considering we have no other food, I would say you don’t want the answer to that question.”

“Pass one here.”

Under the sandwiches, Louis also found his pack of cigarettes and lighter. He pulled one from the pack and rested it between his lips.

“You smoke?” he asked Harry.

“Not if it doesn’t get you high,” Harry said. “Heard that stuff can give you cancer.”

“But you’ll smoke a joint?”

Harry smirked. “It’s worth it.”

“Well, I’d offer that too, but I’ve been mooching weed since yesterday. I’m sure if you asked pretty much anyone around here, though, they’d have you covered,” Louis said as he inhaled a drag. Before putting the pack away, he noticed that there were only three left. He wasn’t going to be able to bum free ones forever.

“I think I’m good for now, but thanks,” Harry laughed.

“Speaking of that, where did the others go? I haven’t seen them since we got out of the water.”

“Oh yeah,” Harry said, looking back and forth and then once over his shoulder. “I don’t think I’ve seen them either.”

“Well, at least we’re the ones who got left with the blanket.” Louis patted a hand on the damp fabric next to him. It wasn’t doing a great job of drying them off, but the sun had started peeking out from behind the clouds and remembered it was actually summertime.

For the first time since his arrival yesterday, Louis realized he was actually enjoying himself. He wasn’t stressing about getting here, tickets, finding a place to sleep, or just a place to take a leak, for that matter. He had a cigarette between his fingers, was eating not-so-terrible food, was relatively clean, and had no responsibilities for the rest of the day except for listening to some music and writing a few notes down on what he’d seen. Oh, and hang out with Harry. That was his only real obligation now.

Thankfully, Louis remembered to bring with him a change of clothes, so he pulled a spare white t-shirt over his head. He tried to offer the sweatshirt he had packed just in case to Harry, but he said he preferred the feeling of the warm sun against his skin. Plus it was getting too damn warm for it. But even though the sun was out now, it really didn’t seem like it was here to stay.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” Harry began, leaning back on his hands.

“What about?” Louis wondered then stuffed the last bite of bread into his mouth.

“The interview you asked me about yesterday.”

Louis widened his eyes. “Oh?” There was a pep in his voice that, judging by the amused look on his face, didn’t go unnoticed by Harry. Louis couldn’t help it because his brain was suddenly filled with excitement over the possibility that this wasn’t over yet.

“I still don’t want to do an interview…”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming,” Louis pointed out.

“ _However_ ,” Harry said instead, the change of word choice completely intentional. “You said you’re doing an article about your experience, right?”

“Right.”

“How about you ask me one question then? At least, only one on the record. Nothing personal; just about this weekend or the music or whatever. So you can add it to your article, if you want.”

“You sure?” Louis asked, but he was already digging into his bag for the audio recorder he packed along.

“Well, if it’ll make me seem like less of a dick to you.”

“I never said you were a dick.”

Harry tilted his head to the side to shoot Louis a look.

“I never _said_ you were a dick.”

“Ask me a question before I change my mind.”

Louis pulled out the coiled notebook that was buried under clothes and food and every other thing that was in his bag and flipped through the pages until he found the one with questions he had prepared. Dragging his finger down the page, he scanned them all until he found one that was good enough.

“You already had questions written down?” Harry asked, more surprised than Louis would’ve expected.

“Well, yeah. I had to prepare.”

“When did you find time to prepare?”

“When I was working at my desk back home.”

“Please tell me you didn’t cross the country _just_ to try and get this interview.”

When Harry said it like that, it did sound pretty ridiculous. Louis came here relying on luck and wit alone. Those two things managed to get him to Harry, but not past Harry’s hatred of the press.

“I didn’t,” Louis lied to save himself the embarrassment. “I came here to write an article about my experience, like I told you. I prepared questions for anyone I happened to be able to interview.”

“But you wanted to put me on the cover.”

Louis snapped his book shut and started stuffing his belongings back in his bag. “If you don’t want to do this just say so.”

“I’m just messing with you, man,” Harry said, lightly grabbing his arm to stop him. “I want to do this. Ask me a question.”

Slowly, Louis took the recorder back out. He hit record, then brought the microphone to his mouth. “Where do you find your inspiration to make music and perform? Right from the beginning until now. Was it an album you once heard that started it all, a person that keeps you going, or is it just because you genuinely love it?”

Harry raised his eyebrows, then coughed to clear his throat. “That was a bit heavier of a question than I was expecting.”

“It’s not too personal, is it?”

“No,” Harry shook his head, then sat up to come up with his answer. “Just a lot to think about.” His eyebrows were creased as he considered his answer.

Louis stretched the recorder towards Harry, who looked down at it kind of oddly. Louis would guess he wasn’t too fond of having one of these things in his face, but it was the only way to ensure he got the whole answer word for word.

“I think any musician that tells you they keep doing it _just_ because they genuinely love it is lying,” he began, looking down at his hands as he spoke. “Overall I do love it, but not all the time. Sometimes I spend an hour before going on stage wishing that I could go home to sleep and didn’t have to be up early for a flight across the country the next morning. And I’m not saying it to be ungrateful, but it’s not an easy lifestyle. You really have to find those things to keep you inspired. At first it was seeing how I could give back to my family, then it was the experience of working with all these great people to create an album, then seeing the reaction from people when I’m up on that stage. Especially being here, you feel like you helped create something big. It reminds you that you started doing it because it’s what you love, you know?”

Louis smiled, squinting from the sunlight as he looked up at Harry.

“As for albums, I listened to a lot of Bob Dylan, Woodie Guthrie, Joan Baez, but I don’t know if I could pin it down to one album or musician. Once you start listening, I don’t think you can stop. Well, maybe just to start playing. Then you really can’t stop.”

Louis started nodding. “Alright,” he said, then pressed the stop button.

“Was that good?”

“It was great,” Louis assured, wishing Harry would’ve agreed to more than just one question. There was so much he wanted to know about him, even if it wasn’t for the interview. But something told him that Harry knowing his initial intentions meant that wasn’t going to happen too easily.

“Can I ask you a question?” Harry wondered, then added, “Off the record.”

Louis laughed. “Don’t worry. I already put the recorder away.”

“Why was that the question you picked?”

Louis took a deep breath. “I think there’s a direct link between inspiration and success, and between inspiration and happiness, but happiness and success have a bit of on odd relationship. If there’s something off with one of the other two relationships, then happiness and success aren’t working together. Like a pyramid being put off balance. You’re clearly successful, so I was wondering where the others came from.”

“You didn’t ask about happiness.”

“You only gave me one question.”

Harry paused, then looked Louis in the eyes with a tight lipped grin. It was the fakest smile he had ever seen. “Then I guess we’ll leave it at that.” He started to stand up, and Louis just watched because he wasn’t sure what was going on. “Let’s find the others,” Harry continued. “I want to get in on whatever Sky and Zayn have been smoking.”

“Speaking of Zayn,” Louis said as he helped Harry in collecting their semi-dry clothes and folding up the very wet blanket, “Have you talked to him at all? Or him to you?”

“Not a word. That’s why I want in on it.”

 

It turned out that Sky and Zayn were the easiest to find because they were where anyone would expect them to be: back at the van with smoke surrounding them. Harry immediately sat down with them while Sky questioned why they had left the rest of them back at the river. Louis found it easiest not to argue even though they were clearly the ones who got left at the river. He wanted somewhere to sleep tonight, after all.

Sky also informed them that Pam had taken Rain for a walk and should be back soon, but Niall and Liam had been missing since the mud slide. No one seemed to be doing a great job of keeping track of each other, but at least the buddy system was working to some degree. That is, as long and Liam and Niall were together and they didn’t have to conduct two separate missing persons searches.

“You guys planning on checking out the stage today?” Sky asked the group. Louis wondered if Zayn was going to try to get out there since he hadn’t yet, but he supposed he’d never get a verbal answer.

“I was thinking of checking it out,” Harry said, then looked to Louis. “You’re in too, right?”

Music had already been coming from the stage almost steadily since the afternoon began. Right now it was mostly smaller acts, but Louis wanted to get at least somewhat closer later on for Creedence Clearwater Revival. He also knew Niall was excited about Janis Joplin. And speaking of that…

“Do you think we should find Liam and Niall first?” Louis wondered, only really wanting an answer from Harry.

“Good luck with that,” Sky scoffed. “There are half a million people here. They could be anywhere.”

Both Louis and Harry’s jaws dropped, and even Zayn stared at Sky in mild shock. “Half a million?” Louis asked weakly. “How do you even know that?”

“Didn’t you hear the announcement this morning? It’s gotten crazy out there. All the highways are blocked off. There’s no in or out until this thing’s over.”

“Wow,” Harry let out, and Zayn shook his head in disbelief.

“I knew about the highways, but I didn’t realize it was that many people,” Louis said.

“And all to come together for the sake of music,” Sky mused with a laugh. “How wild is that?”

“Oh thank God,” someone said from behind the group, and everyone turned to see an out-of-breath Liam with his hands on his knees trying to collect himself. His clothes were still covered in dried mud, but it looked like he washed most of it off his face and arms. “I’ve been running around looking for the van for like an hour.”

“You okay?” Louis raised an eyebrow at him.

“What? Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, dropping down onto the grass next to Louis. One look at his face showed how big his pupils had gotten. Louis breathed a laugh to himself as he turned his head.

“Where did you go?” Harry asked.

“Niall and I made some friends on the way back from the river,” Liam beamed. “They invited us back to their tent, then we went to the stage to listen for a while.”

Louis twisted his back to look around. “So where’s Niall, then?”

“Oh, he didn’t come back with me?” Liam asked, doing the same. Louis imagined Liam wondering around the grounds, tripping on who knows what, and talking out loud thinking Niall was right behind him the whole time. Poor guy.

“Where was this tent, anyway?” asked Harry.

“Other side of the hill near the trees. They had this flag with a bird on it next to it,” Liam explained as he lit up a cigarette.

Harry nudged Louis. “Should we go find him?”

“Find him or find where he got the acid?”

With a mischievous smirk, Harry shrugged.

“We’re gonna go look for Niall,” Louis announced to the group while standing up, Harry following suit.

“I think I’m going to go to the river and float around for a little while,” Liam said, then slowly left as if he was drifting away.

From where he was sat at the van entrance, Zayn stood up and started walking next to them wordlessly. Well, everything he did was wordless.

“You coming too?” Louis asked him.

Zayn just gestured forward in response, and the three of them continued on their way.

With half a million people packed onto one farm, the crowd was starting to get pretty dense. There wasn’t really a walkway to get anywhere anymore. They just had to move in a single file and hope they didn’t step on anything important. At first, it was surprising to walk around and see others casually without a shirt, covered in colourful scarves and jewelry, sitting in or on whatever they could find, and playing makeshift musical instruments in the grass or dirt. They even passed a few people gathered in chairs and advertising acid for a dollar on a wooden sign. It was bizarre to be in a place where almost anything seemed to go as long as it was in the name of peace and love.

Speaking of peace, many took the opportunity of the mass gathering to protest the Vietnam War. Louis didn’t know much about it other than what he saw in the headlines, but he understood why so many people were against it. The civilian deaths, the draft, the casualties… He didn’t understand why anyone was for it.

“You guys hear much about that?” Louis nodded towards the protesters. He already knew the question was dumb before he asked it. Everyone knew about the war. You heard about it everywhere you went.

“Too much,” Harry said, shaking his head. “Terrible, what’s going on over there.”

“It is,” Louis agreed, then looked past him at Zayn who was holding up the peace sign to the protesters as they kept walking. That made his stance pretty clear as well.

Once they reached the other side of the hill, they were met with more tents than they could count. Some were store bought while others were blankets or clothing tied together onto sticks possibly found in the woods behind them. Louis reminded the others that they were looking for a flag with a bird on it. Liam didn’t give any specific details like size or colour or type of bird, but then again, they weren’t seeing any bird flags in general.

“How the hell are we supposed to find this tent?” Louis asked Harry and Zayn, even though he’d only be getting one answer.

“It can’t be _that_ difficult,” Harry reasoned.

“We should just go back to those people who were selling acid for a dollar.”

“That won’t solve the issue of Niall being missing.”

“Liam found his way back. Surely Niall can too.”

“These grounds are huge. For all we know, Liam just got lucky.”

Zayn, who was leading the line, stretched his arm out across Louis’ chest to stop them. He pointed ahead to a rather large tent. Flying from the top was a flag with what looked to be a cartoon drawing of a bird, but it was hard to tell.

“Is that a flag with bird on it?” Harry held his hand above his eyes to shield the sun as he peered closer. “That little yellow one?”

“Looks like it,” Louis observed. “You think that’s what Liam meant?”

Zayn advanced towards it, which probably meant something along the lines of “There’s only one way to find out.”

Their guess proved correct when a gleeful Niall arose from a folding chair in front of the tent, a beer bottle in hand, to greet his familiar new friends.

“There you are!” he said, throwing his arms around all of them. “I’ve been wondering where you guys went off to.”

“You left us,” Louis pointed out, but quickly realized there was no sense in arguing. Niall’s pupils matched Liam’s. No surprise there.

“I want you to meet Cynthia,” Niall said after he let them go, extending his arm to introduce one of the two girls who was behind him. One was small and had wavy brown hair that fell across her forehead and only down to her chin. She wore a suede top without sleeves that frayed around her middle.

When Louis’ eyes landed on the second girl, his eyebrows shot up. She really was everywhere.

“And they call me Deja,” she said, standing up to shake their hands. Louis was first. “Nice to meet you,” she said, looking him right in the eye.

“Meet?” he questioned, but she was already stepping back to join the rest of the conversation.

This girl had to be following him, plain and simple. But what exactly was her end game here? Why was she pretending not to know him even though they had very clearly met twice before? Even Zayn she already knew, but she was treating this as if this was the first time they’d ever seen each other.

Louis wondered if he should stop questioning how strange this weekend was getting and just let it happen. He was getting some great material for his article, after all.

“So what are you guys doing over here?” Niall asked, gesturing for them to sit in the available chairs. The other girl, Cynthia, whispered something into Deja’s ear before the two of them disappeared into the tent.

“We came to find you, then we were going to see if you wanted to check out the stage,” Harry told him.

“Yes! Any idea when Janis goes on? I gotta see her, man. And Grateful Dead too. You don’t think we missed them, do you?” Niall looked at the watch on his wrist that wasn’t actually there.

“It’s still early. I think we’re good,” Harry assured him.

“Hey, has anyone seen Liam around?” Niall looked over his shoulder even though all that was behind him was the closed tent.

“He’s back at the van,” Louis told him, but had to exchange amused grins with Harry. Even Zayn found the question humorous.

“Oh, did he just leave?” Niall wondered, but his question went unanswered when Cynthia and Deja returned again.

“You guys are going to check out the stage?” asked Cynthia. “You want some more company?”

“Yeah, of course!” Niall exclaimed.

“We do have a little gift for you three before we go,” Cynthia continued, then walked up to Zayn. “Hold out your hand,” she said, then placed something tiny in it. She walked over to Harry next and requested the same while Deja approached Louis.

“With this, the music will take you to a whole other world,” Deja whispered to him.

Louis looked at the tiny piece of tie-dye colour paper in his hand, then watched as Zayn and Harry both placed it on their tongues without a second thought. He’d been to college. He knew all about this stuff. He tried it one time at a party, but with all the substance mixing ended up passing out before he could experience anything otherworldly. Since then, Louis hadn’t been around that scene too much, but this weekend was that scene.

As if he was searching for approval, Louis met eyes with Harry who simply shrugged then stood up to join the others as they got ready to leave for the stage. Harry had probably lost count of the amount of times he’d done something like this. He lived this scene almost daily. So with a sigh, Louis placed the paper on his tongue and tried not to think too hard about it. He wondered how long it would take until he could hardly control his thoughts at all.

“You’re just going to leave all your stuff here?” Harry asked the girls as they began to trudge through the crowd.

Deja and Cynthia looked at each other with the same amused smirks that Louis found himself exchanging with Harry. Cynthia turned back towards him and shrugged. “I don’t know who this stuff belongs to.”

Getting as close to the stage as Louis and Liam did the first day would be virtually impossible. Since then the crowd had nearly tripled in size and the energy in the air was livelier than ever. Louis hoped that they would decide on a spot to remain in soon. If he remembered right, he had about 30 mins until he was supposed to start hearing colours and seeing sounds, or something like that. In theory, a trip while at a concert sounded great. Less so when Louis looked behind him and realized there was no clear path out of here and the people were squishing closer and closer together.

Between acts a man walked on stage, headed straight for the microphone. He had a few announcements to make, which were happening periodically throughout the last couple of days. That reminded Louis of one he heard early yesterday…

“ _Back to the warning that I received – you can take it with however many grains of salt you wish – that the brown acid that is circulating around us is not specifically too good, so it is suggested that you do stay away from that. Of course, it’s your own trip, so be my guest_.”

With wide eyes, Louis quickly looked at the first person next to him, which happened to be Cynthia. “What colour was-?”

“Not brown,” she assured him with a laugh. “You’ll be feeling good soon.”

He didn’t know why he trusted this girl he hadn’t even spoken to yet, but he did. He tried not to think about it too much as the announcer continued to introduce the next act, and then everything faded into the music.

In the distance, the current band on stage looked like tiny specs. Louis didn’t even know who was performing, but he supposed he would have if he was paying attention earlier. But the people who were into it were swaying to the sounds, sitting on shoulders, and dancing without any real method to their movements. They stood around for what felt like hours, just listening, and Louis felt a slow rush in his chest, like a buildup to butterflies in the stomach. While his anxiety lifted from him like a spirit, the rest of him flushed with relaxation. He wasn’t feeling smells or anything like that, but he was feeling something.

Deja had appeared next to him, standing close behind Cynthia. She wrapped her arms around Cynthia’s shoulders, who smiled as the two of them swayed to the music.

“How are you feeling?” Cynthia went up on her tiptoes to ask in his ear. Deja looked intrigued to hear the answer as well.

“Really good,” Louis laughed, then didn’t realize he was also swaying until he tried to focus his eyes on her face. He turned his head the other way when he felt something brush against his arm. Realizing it was Harry on the other side of him made him both relieved and, oddly, quite happy. He grinned widely when they met eyes, and when Harry grinned back everything started to slow down.

Louis watched the people on stage intently as they strummed guitars, wildly hit the drums, and the lead singer pulled someone on stage to shout along into the microphone. His glazed over eyes peered across the crowd that seemed to go on forever, especially if he turned around. Arms were raised in the air, people were cheering, and Niall seemed to have made another friend because a girl with long curly hair and a cigarette in her hand was now sitting on his shoulders a few feet away.

Zayn was still with them physically, but as his body and his mind had to be in some other world. Louis leaned down to ask Cynthia and Deja how they were, but turned to see he was speaking to no one.

“Where did those two girls go?” Louis asked Harry, placing a hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

“Which girls?” Harry asked, but the song came to an end and he was too caught up in the cheering to hear Louis’ answer.

Louis just didn’t understand how Deja kept finding him and disappearing like a ghost. Half a million people here and he kept running into one in particular. He couldn’t help but wonder if there was something about Deja that just wasn’t… real.

They stayed in the main audience all through the sunset and Grateful Dead’s set, and for those few hours Louis really understood what that whole seeing sounds thing came from. He felt it too, and that didn’t even seem like it was coming from the drugs. Everything was hazy like a dream but in the absolute best way.

As the band left stage, Louis grabbed Harry’s wrist and said, “I need to go somewhere else.”

“Where?” Harry asked.

“Somewhere open, where you can run. Like a big empty field. You said we had to stick together, right? I want to run.”

Harry sort of laughed, but then started nodding his head. “Yeah. Let’s run,” he said.

They told Niall and Zayn that they’d meet them back at the van later, then squeezed their way through the crowd. Louis took the lead and didn’t let go of Harry’s wrist the whole time.

They kept pushing until they got to the top of the hill where the crowd was more spaced out, and then Louis started running. He let go of Harry’s wrist so he could run too, at whatever pace he liked. His mind felt so free that he wanted his body too as well. While it was quite dark out, the light from the stage, bonfires, and the moon bounced around enough that they could at least see their feet.

Louis breathed in the cool night air and felt the breeze wrap around his body as his feet pounded on the grass. Harry was only a few strides behind him. They were laughing because that’s what happens when only a smile can no longer contain how happy you feel. No one stared because in the last two days, this was one of the more normal things you could come across.

Louis kept running until long grass tickled his sides. With his arms stretched in the air, he twirled once then let himself collapse onto the soft ground. Harry fell next to him, his legs outstretched as he leaned back on his hands. Louis moved his head so it was resting on Harry’s thigh, then stared up at the sky. They were so far from the city that bright stars cluttered the sky like young people cluttered the land of this farm. Trees framed Louis’ view with half a circle, the long grass filling in the blanks. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Harry, his head also tilted towards the stars.

“Why did you stay?” Louis found himself asking.

“You mean stay for the festival?” Harry clarified, still looking up. The disorganized pattern in the sky was too alluring to look away. Louis wondered if they’d see a shooting star, but he had no idea what he’d wish for.

“Yeah. I know you said you wanted to see Hendrix, but you can’t tell me that was the only reason why. This is off the record, by the way,” he added just to tease him.

Harry smiled at the comment as he thought for a moment, then sighed. “My life isn’t real, Louis. I was tired of the schedules and the commitments and everyone wanting something from me. But this… This weekend of freedom. This is how I want to live. This is real.”

Sadly, Louis shook his head. “This isn’t real, man. This is a fantasy. People wish their everyday lives were filled with that same free spirit that’s been flying around these six hundred acres, but they just aren’t.”

“They are for some people.”

“Right now, maybe. But this isn’t going to be what it’s like for the rest of their lives. A lot of these young people are practically kids. Hell, we’re practically still kids. Eventually they’re going to start working full-time, find someone they want to marry, then live the white-picket-fence American dream they spent their teenage years loathing the idea of. The others, that’s what they’re going home to on Monday. You’re always going to live in the fantasy, Harry. You just get to have it be real.”

“I guess it’s a blessing and a curse,” Harry laughed, but Louis could tell the thought was making his stomach twist into knots. “With me, I’m never constantly around people living the same life as me. If I lived whatever _real_ life everyone else is living then at least there are people around to relate to.”

“Can’t you just relate to someone because you’re both people? I mean, on some level we’re all going through the same shit. The stress of life, trying to belong, find love, do whatever you think you need to do to find a purpose in the world. Is that not enough?”

“Sometimes it is,” Harry nodded, then Louis felt the soft touch of his fingertips grazing along his cheek. “Once you get past the fantasy.”

Louis looked up at him and Harry met his gaze in a crinkle-eyed smile. For no reason at all, they both started laughing.

“I think we’re still really high,” Louis admitted.

“I think you’re right,” Harry agreed.

His fingers didn’t leave. Instead, they traced down to Louis’ chin.

“I’m glad you decided to stay,” Louis told him sincerely. This morning, he would’ve never even thought such a thing, but now he couldn’t imagine spending today with anyone else.

“So am I. I really like hanging out with you. And the others too. Everyone has been great,” he tacked on, and Louis started nodding quickly. Probably too quickly.

“Yeah, they really have,” he said.

Harry’s fingers found the bridge of his nose, then trailed gently down to the corner of his mouth.

“Louis, I have to admit something to you,” he said. Louis felt his heart thump and wondered if Harry noticed the way his cheeks flared.

“What is it?”

Harry pulled away his gaze that had been locked on Louis for so long. But he did it so he could take a look at their surroundings. “I have no fucking clue where we are,” he said.

It took him a second, but Louis let out a burst of laughter. “Neither do I.” The thought of knowing where they were going when they started running never even occurred to him. He was too focused on that floaty and freeing feeling that was still hanging around his mind. “Maybe we’ll just have to sleep here tonight.”

Harry shrugged. “That wouldn’t be so bad.”

He felt the touch of Harry’s thumb against his bottom lip, so he reached his hand up to hold the back of Harry’s hand. It was even softer than the tips of his fingers. Harry looked at their hands, then to Louis again. Louis felt himself sitting up, their legs facing opposite directions. He brought both of their hands to his own cheek, then left Harry’s there so he could feel the skin of Harry’s warm cheek beneath his fingertips.

“What are you doing?” Harry whispered. He was looking at Louis’ lips, not his eyes.

“I don’t know,” Louis said under his breath, and he really didn’t.

Carefully, Louis found himself leaning forward. Harry was doing the same, so he didn’t stop. Harry’s lips were even softer against his own than his fingertips were. Louis had never done anything like this before, but something had overtaken him, and it wasn’t the acid.

The way it felt to kiss Harry was so natural. Like the way Louis’ hand fit so perfectly along his jawline. The way his lips parted without a second thought. The way Harry’s hair tickled his cheek. He wanted to pull Harry in closer. He didn’t know how much further this could go, but he wanted more. Maybe not now, in this field of long grass shielding them from the rest of the world, but sometime and somewhere.

Louis was the first to pull away, but it wasn’t suddenly. He didn’t know how long had passed. They had gotten so caught up in the movements and the distant echoes of the main stage becoming their background soundtrack. It took a moment for Harry to open his eyes again.

“I don’t want to apologize for that,” Louis said.

“I don’t want you to apologize.”

“Did that happen because we were high or because we both wanted it to happen?”

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t know either.”

A beat passed and neither of them knew what to say. Louis’ hand never left Harry’s cheek.

“I really wanted to kiss you,” Harry finally said.

Louis smiled. “I really wanted to kiss you too.”

“Have you done that before?” Harry wondered.

Louis gave him a funny look. “Kissed someone?”

“Kissed a guy.”

“No. Have you?”

“Not like that.”

Louis didn’t know what that meant, but it made him smile because Harry already was. For Louis, no kiss had ever felt like that.

Without another word, Harry took Louis’ hand from his cheek. He started to lay down, so Louis did the same, his head falling next to Harry’s feet. They looked up at the stars as cold grass held their bodies and their hands connected them to each other.

Louis wished this fantasy would never end.


	3. Chapter 3

**Day Three - Sunday**

The next morning, half of Louis woke with the sunrise. The other half with the shuttering sound of a camera going off above his head. Startled, he covered his face with one hand.

“You never mentioned you had a camera with you,” a voice said, and Louis tried to blink his eyes open to figure out the face that matched. As he sat up in the grass, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he realized he’d been using Harry’s chest as a pillow.

“Where did you find that?” Louis asked, squinting as he tried to make out the figure that was backlit by the sun.

“You left your bag in the van. Thought you might need it.”

Louis heard the sound of a lighter flick open after the bag was tossed into his lap. His eyes were finally starting to focus, and the shape of the figure cleared into Zayn.

“Wait, you’re talking!” he burst as Zayn exhaled a cloud of smoke. Louis turned to shake Harry awake behind him, who unfortunately got nothing but grass as a pillow. “Harry, Zayn speaks!”

Zayn was just staring at him, the cigarette dangling from his fingers.

“What are you- Oh, hey Zayn,” Harry said as he pushed himself to sit up. His hair was a dishevelled mess of curls, so he brushed it all back with his fingers to contain it.

Zayn smiled in greeting, then dropped the photo in front of them and motioned for them to follow him with his head.

“I swear, he was just talking to me,” Louis insisted.

Harry shrugged. “I haven’t heard him say anything.”

While Harry stood up to follow Zayn, Louis reached forward to pick up the picture. It still hadn’t fully developed, but he could tell what it looked like. Harry’s legs were crossed and one of his arms had fallen across Louis’ shoulders, the other behind his own head. Louis’ hands were folded together on his stomach and his hair had fallen into his face. Both of them had their eyes gently closed in sleep as the long grass formed an outline around them. There was something about the photo that just felt so peaceful, yet exciting at the same time. Like how he felt hours ago when they had fallen asleep like that. Louis didn’t forget what happened yesterday. He never wanted to forget yesterday.

Tucking the photo into his back pocket, Louis grabbed pulled the strap of the bag over his shoulder and followed the other two back to the van.

Somehow, each morning, everyone still managed to find their way back to that van they started to mentally refer to as home base. Sky and Pam were kind enough to share their space without asking anything in return, which was beyond what Louis expected from anyone he met here. As the boys scarfed down peanut butter and bread, they made sure those two knew they were grateful.

No one looked like they did upon first arrival on Friday. Hair was messy, clothes were dirty and torn, and shoes were, in some cases, lost all together. The festival had taken its toll. Music from the main stage hadn’t stopped since last night when Louis first woke up, and it wasn’t until Jefferson Airplane ended that the full party had trickled back in. Niall was the last to arrive. Based on how terrible he looked, Louis would assume that he was yet to actually sleep since Friday night. His shirt was thrown over his shoulders, his walk had a slight limp, and he held a beer bottle in his hand that looked to be recently opened. It hardly mattered that it wasn’t even noon yet. Technically, it can’t count as day drinking if you’ve been binging for two days. But hey, it was a festival, so everyone was.

“Want to take the back?” Pam asked Niall as he leaned his exhausted body against the passenger door.

“Please,” he said, then practically collapsed through the fabric that hung over the entrance, shaking the whole vehicle.

“Is he okay?” Liam asked, who was also sitting on the grass next to Louis and Pam.

“He’s fine,” Louis said, based on no evidence except a strong hunch. “He’ll be sure to wake up to finish that beer.”

Rain was sitting in Pam’s lap, watching everything around her as she chewed on an apple. Louis looked down at her and smiled, then up to Pam whose tied up hair was blowing in the breeze.

“So where are you guys headed after this?” Louis asked to make conversation. He also realized that he hadn’t gotten to know Pam much despite using her and Sky’s amenities the last three days.

“Just home, I suppose. Sky has to go back to work and I have to get this little one to pre-school,” she pointed to Rain. Louis didn’t know why he was so surprised to hear they lead such normal lives outside of this weekend. He supposed the fantasy was much more temporary for some than it was for others. “What about you?”

“I’m headed back home too,” he said. “San Francisco.”

“I’m from California too,” Pam beamed. “Just outside of Sacramento. I met Sky when I was seventeen and visiting my cousins in Brooklyn. When I found out I was going to have her, I decided to stay, so Sky and I got a house upstate and now here we are.”

In Louis’ mind, Pam and Sky were in their late twenties at least. He didn’t expect to be older than them. Or older than Pam, at least. She had a house and a husband and a kid. Louis had a studio apartment and a roommate who was messier than he was. Maybe not everyone was living the same life after all.

“Sorry, you didn’t ask for my life story,” Pam laughed, shaking her head.

“No, it’s okay,” Louis assured her. “How else do you get to know someone?”

When she asked about them, Louis and Liam explained, essentially, their life stories, as well. It was nice to just sit around and trade stories for a while. Louis was also sober for the first time since his arrival, which was nice for now but wouldn’t last long. This was the last day of the festival. He had to go all out.

During the wind down for a few hours before the next act, Louis decided to go for a little walk on his own. Now that they were at the tail end of the weekend, this would be the best time to get interviews from attendees. While he did make Harry a promise, he figured that one hour wouldn’t hurt anything. Especially while Harry seemed to be bonding with Sky and a few new people around the fire. They seemed quite invested in a game of cards while Zayn was now on the opposite end teaching Liam a few chords on his guitar. Louis decided this was a great opportunity to slip away while no one was paying attention.

With a camera slung over his shoulder and a notebook and recorder tucked under his arm, Louis talked to anyone who would give him the time of day. He asked about where they came from, the performers they saw, how they were making it through these last few days, and anything he could think of on the spot. Some answers were basically unusable:

“What’s been the most enjoyable part of the festival for you?”

“There’s some great weed around, man.”

But others were so good he was already structuring the piece in his head:

“In a sentence, how would you describe the atmosphere here?”

“A gathering of free-minded people for a like-minded cause: peace, love, and music.”

Louis also managed to snap some great pictures of the scene on the dairy farm after two days of young people living on it, hoping they could be incorporated as well. He was getting so much material that an hour had quickly turned into two and he decided he should probably be headed back to the van and find out what his friends were going to do for the rest of the day. If they hadn’t left on their own yet, that is.

When Louis returned, ensuring all his belongings were safely hidden in his bag before he was in sight, only Liam and Zayn remained around the fire. Niall, presumably, was still sleeping off all the alcohol he’d been consuming all weekend, but the rest of them were nowhere in sight.

“What’d I miss?” Louis said as he took the seat next to Zayn. Every time he saw Zayn he wondered if it was going to be one of those rare moments where he decided to indulge in half of a conversation. But as far as Louis knew, he was still the only one out of the group of them to hear him speak.

“Not a ton, but I think Harry is looking for you. He said something about it being strange that you left without him,” Liam informed him. “Where did you go, anyway?”

“Harry’s looking for me? How long ago did he leave?” Louis was sure he sounded more concerned than he should’ve, but he didn’t understand why Harry would go off on his own. At least when Louis left he still knew where Harry was. He wasn’t even sure Harry knew how to get back here, and if he did, Louis did not want to be stuck in a cat-and-mouse game until they found each other again.

“An hour ago, probably.”

“Did he not think I was going to come back?”

“I dunno, man. He didn’t say a lot. I mean, you were gone for a while.”

Zayn began playing a quiet melody on his scratched up guitar, completely ignoring the real issue at hand. Louis was starting to wonder if this whole ‘not talking’ thing was just an excuse for his apathy.

“What about Sky and Pam? Where are they?” Louis asked while he tried to internally decide if he should go looking for Harry. If he found him quickly it would save Harry the search, but Harry had to end up back here eventually, right?

“I think they took Rain for a walk to check out the exhibitors. Zayn and I promised to look after the van.”

Zayn looked up at Liam for a moment, then back down at his fingers moving across the fretboard. How it more likely happened was that Liam agreed for the both of them and Zayn couldn’t get a say because he refused to say anything at all.

“You’re back,” Louis heard, then turned around to see Harry standing behind him and blocking the sun.

“Oh, there you are!” Louis stood up to greet him, almost going in for a hug until he noticed Harry take a half step back.

“I was looking for you,” Harry said. His face was covered in confusion and concern.

“Yeah, sorry. I didn’t think I’d be gone that long.”

Harry glanced at the others still around the smoking coal that they had been calling a fire, then muttered to Louis. “Can I talk to you somewhere else?”

“Sure,” Louis said. His expression now matched Harry’s.

They walked around to the back of the van where there were less people. The windows were closed, but Harry peaked his head in one to make sure Niall was still asleep. Once he was satisfied with their level of privacy, he stuck his hands in his pockets and leaned against the warm body of the vehicle.

“I’m really sorry I left without telling you,” Louis said quickly. “I know we had a deal, but I had to get a few interviews and I really didn’t think I’d be longer than an hour. I figured you were fine here with everyone and-”

“It’s okay,” Harry told him. “That’s not what this is about. I was looking for you because I thought we should talk about something else.”

Louis knew where this was going.

“Last night,” Louis said. “In the grass.”

Harry paused, looking down at his feet. For someone who wanted to talk about this, he sure didn’t seem like he had a lot to say.

“I don’t do that,” Harry muttered.

“Don’t do what?”

“You know what.”

Louis eyed him for a moment, hating that Harry wouldn’t even spare him a glance.

“I asked you if you had before and you said “not like that”. What did that mean, then?”

“Louis, I-”

“You _said_ you wanted to kiss me.” His voice was getting louder. “You told me not to apologize.”

Louis was holding firm an icy glare. The way he was speaking made it sound like he was angry or like this was just some dumb argument that he could win, but he was hurt. Yeah, it was just a kiss and he it could’ve meant nothing, but after the day they spent together it sure as hell didn’t feel like nothing.

“I didn’t say that I- Look, it’s not that-” Harry cut himself off. He was at a complete loss for words. He spent nearly an hour looking for Louis to have this conversation and now he couldn’t even get out what he wanted to say. “It was my fault,” he eventually said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Fault? What is there to take blame for?”

Right in front of his eyes, Louis was watching all these walls Harry had built around himself come tumbling down. Harry didn’t have to say anything do give it all away. The transparency made Louis’ stomach churn.

“You think I’m going to tell people, don’t you?” Louis said, his tone soft for a hard accusation. “Because I work in the media, you think I’m going to let a story leak that you lead some sort of secret ‘alternate lifestyle’. What do you think I would get out of that?”

“A promotion, probably.”

Louis’ jaw dropped because that one felt like a blow right to the chest. He wasn’t out to try and ruin reputations. People like Harry having successful careers was the reason Louis even had one. And it wasn’t only because of his job. This wasn’t a headline. It was his life. You don’t do that to people you care about. Louis would never even consider it.

“You really don’t trust me?” he asked quietly.

“I want to.”

He realized then that Harry was actually looking at him, and his eyes weren’t cold. They weren’t filled with regret or shame. It was hope that Harry was feeling. A fearful kind of hope.

“I didn’t walk in on you with some guy, remember. It was me. I may not be the one with the whole country watching, but I have the same secret. And I wasn’t lying. I really wanted to kiss you.”

Harry took a deep breath, then reached his hand out just to touch Louis’ arm. Louis could feel the hesitance in it, but didn’t flinch.

“Last night, when I said that, what I meant…” Harry started, trying to collect his words before he said something wrong. Louis took a step closer, trying to be patient but also dying to know what Harry was thinking. “…was that it never felt like… I don’t know.”

Harry pulled his hand away.

“I would never tell anyone,” Louis tried to assure him again. “It’s not my place.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry started shaking his head. “Maybe I panicked, but I-”

_*Tap tap tap*_

A knocking pounded on the window between them, and then it slid right open. Niall’s face appeared on the other side of it.

“Harry, Louis, good to you see ya’,” he said brightly. “Listen, I hate to interrupt, but I think I have a bit of a situation.”

“What kind of situation?” Harry asked.

“If it’s in your pants, that’s normal sometimes when you wake up.”

Louis didn’t know where the joke came from considering he wasn’t in a very humorous mood, but Harry still let out the breath of a laugh.

“Technically, it is, if you count the bottom part,” Niall’s joking tone was slipping. “Just come in here and take a look for yourself.”

“Why can’t you come out here?” Louis asked.

“You’ll see when you get over here,” Niall told him, then slid the window shut again.

After an exchange of glances that knew they didn’t have much of a choice, Harry and Louis walked around to the front doors where Zayn and Liam were still sitting. Harry informed them that something was wrong with Niall while Louis quickly drew the curtains back.

“So what’s wrong with- Oh, shit!”

With his pant leg rolled up, Niall had on display his ankle that was swollen almost half in size. The colour was a mixture between purple, black, and blue that was almost hard to look at. Louis thought if he stared to long he’d start feeling the pain too.

“What the hell happened?” Harry said in disbelief.

“We were trying to climb the towers last night to get a better view. I remember going up, but not so much coming down. I was walking around no problem afterword, though. I mean, you guys saw me walk back here, right?”

“What happened?” Liam appeared next to Louis, trying to peak his head in to see what was going on.

“Niall was too fucked up to notice he busted his foot,” Louis summarized it as simply as he could think of.

“Shit…” Liam muttered once he got a good look at the foot.

“Can you feel it now?” Harry wondered, his face scrunched up in discomfort.

“I wouldn’t be awake right now if I couldn’t.”

“We gotta do something. That looks broken,” Louis said, but really he had no idea what to do. They were nowhere near a hospital, and even if they were they were trapped in here by hundreds of thousands of people.

“I heard that there are medical tents somewhere around here. They got military doctors to come in,” Liam informed the group. By now, Zayn had finally wandered over to see what was going on.

“Do you think you can walk on it?” Harry turned to Niall.

“I don’t think he should…” Louis began, but Niall was already moving to try and stand up. Harry and Louis took each of his arms until he was on his feet, but as soon as he put pressure on it he yelped in pain.

“It’s gotta be broken,” Harry concluded.

“Someone grab me a bottle of anything with alcohol in it,” Niall said, sitting back down in the van entrance. “If I could walk on it while fucked up this morning then I can do it again.”

Liam reached behind the passenger seat where a half full bottle of whiskey was laying on its side, but Louis was quick to stop him. “Nope. We aren’t doing that,” he said. Chances were that Niall wasn’t even sober yet, but seeing his foot clued him in to why he was probably limping all night. Considering alcohol was probably the cause of this, adding more was not going to help the situation.

“What do you suggest then, doctor?” Niall asked sarcastically, and Louis decided to let the comment slide because he was probably in a lot of pain and not in the mood for disagreement.

Before Louis could answer, Zayn pushed between everyone and leaned into the van behind Niall. He pulled out a large blue patterned scarf and shook it out too its full size. Once he gestured for Niall to stretch out his foot, he got down on his knees and began folding the fabric tightly around it. The way he was doing it was so methodical that Louis thought he might actually have known what he was doing. Like, at a medical professional level. It was honestly quite impressive.

Once Zayn was finished, he looked up at Niall for approval of whether it felt okay. Niall moved his foot slightly, but the scarf was holding it firmly in place. Zayn gave him a thumbs up, then stood up again.

“Doesn’t he still need to go to a doctor, though?” Harry asked. Zayn nodded his head, which was the most communication he’d had with anyone besides Louis, that Louis noticed.

“Can he wait until tomorrow?” Liam asked.

Zayn shook his head.

“I think he did it so it would make it easier to get Niall to the tents,” Louis explained. Zayn gave a thumbs up, then made his way back to the fire. Louis really wished Zayn would be finished with whatever strange game he was playing that was making him stay silent. Especially considering he just proved himself to be the most useful in this situation.

“What are we supposed to do? Carry him across the grounds?” Harry looked to everyone.

“The tents aren’t close. It would be a long way to walk,” Liam added.

“He can’t be that heavy. Besides, there are four of us,” Louis reasoned.

“Someone has to stay back to look after the van,” Liam pointed out. From his spot at the campfire, Zayn cleared his throat. When everyone else turned to look at him, he raised his hand to volunteer, eyes focused on a newspaper. This one was different from the one he was reading yesterday.

“Okay, there are three of us. That’s still enough!” Louis encouraged.

“Do we even know what direction we’re walking in?” Harry stressed.

“If one of you doesn’t make a decision in the next five seconds I am chugging that bottle until I pass out again,” Niall said, a vein popping out of his head as he pointed aggressively to the whiskey.

Louis’ timid eyes scanned the four other people around him, unsure and doubtful because when do his plans ever really work out? But he took a deep breath because Niall was in a lot of pain and someone had to do _something_. “Liam and Harry, you guys each take a leg. I’ll lead the way,” he said confidently, then offered his hand to help Niall up.

Hopping onto his uninjured foot, Niall lifted his arms while Harry and Liam crouched down below him. He was sat with one leg on each of their shoulders as they slowly raised him off of the ground. Harry was stuck with the leg connected to the purple foot, and while he had the unfortunate luck of having to look at it, he was much more likely to be careful not to actually touch it than Liam was.

“You good?” Louis asked as he took a step back and let the three of them regain their balance. Niall was a little more wobbly than the rest, but a few steps forward and Harry and Liam had the movement down.

“Can I still bring the whiskey for the road?” Niall requested, his arms rested on the tops of the heads of the two boys carrying him. Neither looked too impressed.

With a roll of his eyes, Louis turned around and waved a hand to signal the pyramid of people behind him to follow.

“Do you _actually_ know where we’re going?” Harry asked, uncomfortably eyeing the foot. Even though it was wrapped up it was still not a pretty sight.

“Why do you get to direct and not do the dirty work? We do have eyes ourselves,” Liam whined. He was trying really hard not to trip over his own feet. Or anything else in their path.

“Dirty work?” Niall sounded offended.

“We’re going towards the big tents. If the medical help isn’t there then someone will probably be able to direct us where to go at the very least.”

“When we get there, don’t let them take me away. I want to see Joe Cocker.” When Niall said it, his voice sounded shallow like he was swallowing. Louis glanced over his shoulder to see a bottle gripped in one of his hands, beer sloshing around with the movement of their walking. It looked like it might be the one he was only half finished with earlier.

“Really, man?” Louis sighed, gesturing to the drink. “When did you even grab that?”

“You wouldn’t let me bring the whiskey,” he said, then tilted the bottle to his lips again.

Since yesterday, the crowd had thinned out a fair amount, but it was hard to notice the closer they got to the main tents. Word was getting around that there was a shortage of food on site, especially since a few of the vendor’s trucks got raided. Apparently, some of the townspeople of Bethel had banded together to provide a few thousand sandwiches to stop the concertgoers from starving in their last hours of the festival. As luck would have it, they got roped right into the line with hundreds of people waiting to soothe their rumbling stomachs.

“Should we just go right up to the front?” Liam suggested.

“It’ll look like we’re butting in,” Harry said. Louis would agree, but getting Niall properly bandaged up seemed more important than worrying about seeming rude.

“Wait,” Niall stopped them just as they stepped out of line.

“What is it?” asked Louis with genuine concern.

“I actually am kind of hungry though,” Niall said weakly, earning a chorus of groans in response. “Hey, we’re obviously not going to make it back for Joe Cocker! Food is my compromise.”

“All of what we’re doing is for you,” Harry pointed out.

“Actually…” Liam began, and Louis was about ready to give up. “I’m getting kind of hungry too.” Was he the only one who cared about Niall’s foot? What if it got infected or something? Not to mention he was getting real tired of having to direct this entire mess of a situation.

“Fine. Liam, switch places with me. You wait here and get food for everyone and we’ll bring Niall to the medical tent. Meet us there after.”

Louis felt a tap on his shoulder just before they could make a switch. Zayn stepped forward to make his appearance and offered a small wave to everyone.

“What are you doing here?” asked Louis, more surprised that Zayn could actually find them than anything else.

Zayn patted his stomach. He was hungry too, apparently.

“We thought you were watching the van. Did Pam and Sky come back?” Harry asked.

Zayn nodded.

“He really doesn’t talk, eh?” Niall pointed his thumb at Zayn in mild confusion.

Whatever, Louis thought. They had already made the plan and they were sticking to it. Louis grabbed Niall’s unbroken foot and shooed Liam away from the spot. Once the weight had been shifted – Niall actually was much lighter than expected – and they were ready to walk again, Louis said to Liam and Zayn, “You two wait here for sandwiches then come find us when we’re done. If we’re finished first, we’ll search the line.”

Then the three of them were off, and Louis only felt slightly bad that he was leaving Liam with someone who wouldn’t speak. At least Louis knew the guy was good at befriending strangers. Hence, why they were where they were right now.

With determination, Harry and Louis attempted to push their way through to the front of the line, avoiding the dirty looks from people who were patiently waiting their turn. Louis hoped, at least, that one glance at Niall on their shoulders with a wrapped up foot would be all the clarity anyone needed.

“So, what were you guys talking about behind the van, anyway?” Niall asked out of nowhere.

Louis could feel Harry looking at him and wasn’t able to resist meeting his eye. The look was one of concern, and maybe even apologetic. That didn’t mean Louis wasn’t mad anymore. Harry’s accusation hurt and no dreamy gaze of his was going to make Louis forgive him that easily. Or maybe ever. Louis knew what he felt, but if Harry couldn’t trust him because of his career then there was really no point in continuing whatever was going on between them. Friendship or otherwise.

“Nothing important,” Louis said, and hoped his comment might sting even a fraction of the way it did when Louis had to hear “I don’t do that” come from Harry. If he didn’t do that, he wouldn’t have kissed Louis back.

“Sounded important,” Niall said nonchalantly. “I felt bad about breaking it up.”

“What exactly did you hear?” Harry asked. Louis could hear the worry in his voice, but Niall was completely oblivious.

“No words, but you guys were doing a lot of whispering. It’s none of my business, I guess,” he decided, leaving it up to Harry and Louis if they wanted to answer further.

Harry stayed quiet, so Louis guessed he would to.

Louis should’ve trusted his instincts. Screw what Deja said about being Harry’s friend and trying to get to the bottom of whatever was messing with his head. Louis was the one who felt like his head was being messed with, and the two of them were the main culprits. He didn’t want to befriend Harry. He didn’t need anyone else by his side until this festival was over. When he planned to come here, the intention was never to make friends. He was here for a story. Anything he could get, really, and he got a good amount of material for one. Everything was great until it wasn’t anymore.

Screw the cover story. Screw his boss for refusing to pay for this trip if he didn’t come back with it. Screw Harry fucking Styles for saying no to it because of his own vanity. And for making Louis think he could finally fall for someone before leaving him with a red handprint across his cheek.

Screw this entire weekend. Louis just wanted to go home.

“I think I see medics up there,” Harry pointed out, squinting his eyes to get a better look. After pulling himself out of his hole of self-pity, Louis was pretty sure he saw them through the opening of the tent as well. That saved them a trip to wherever they originally hoped the people handing out food would direct them to.

Picking up their pace, Harry and Louis tried their best to jog towards the entrance. Once they got there, they let Niall down so he could hop on one foot with one arm thrown around each of them.

“He messed up his foot pretty bad,” Louis told the male doctor as he tried to help Niall sit on the last available cot. The doctor was dressed surprisingly casual and was only identifiable by the stethoscope around his neck. Thinning grey hair covered his head and a pair of wire framed glasses sat on his nose.

“Look, any painkillers you got, I’ll take ‘em,” Niall stressed, but the doctor was more concerned with assessing the damage he could see first.

“Who tied this? It’s done very well,” the doctor observed as he began to take apart Zayn’s handiwork.

“Is it broken?” Niall asked, covering his eyes with his head tilted back so he wouldn’t have to see. “Tell me, doc, will I ever walk again? How will I use my kick drum?”

“He’s got a flare for the dramatics,” Harry told the doctor while Louis was scolding Niall with a stern glare.

“Well, it’s definitely bruised and swollen, but I don’t think you needed me to tell you that. We don’t have any equipment here for x-rays, as you can see by our setup,” he gestured around to the tent that had about thirty cots set up and plastic sheets laid out on the ground. “But we can attempt to judge how bad the break is, if that’s what it really is, and get it bandaged up before trying to get you off to a hospital.”

“No,” Niall was shaking his head. “No hospital. I’ll go when I get back, but I am not missing Hendrix because of this.”

The doctor looked over his glasses at Harry and Louis, then back to Niall’s foot that he was carefully examining. The colour hadn’t changed from purple and blue, but it did look like the colours had moved around like mixing paint. Without thinking twice, the doctor used his thumb to place pressure right above Niall’s heel.

“AHH!” Niall shouted, stretching his neck back then having to bite his knuckle to control the pain.

“You still don’t want to go to the hospital?” the doctor asked.

“Can’t you just see what you can do while we’re here? He swore to us he would go as soon as this is over,” Louis tried to reason, for Niall’s sake. He didn’t know him very long, but he did know the guy was stubborn. He’d rather limp out of here with that ankle exposed than leave early to get it properly fixed.

“Well, there are no major abnormalities in terms of the shape of the ankle. Of course, I can’t tell if there’s a definite break without ordering an x-ray. The best I can do for you here is properly bandage it up and advise that you do not put any weight on it until you can get to a hospital.”

“Wrap ‘er up then, doc,” Niall said. He didn’t open his eyes once since laying down on the cot. Louis wondered if he was going to take the opportunity to have another nap while he was on an actual bed.

The doctor left to find some compression bandages and a bag of ice and returned just as soon. He let the bag sit on Niall’s ankle as he got the rest of his station prepared to bandage it up.

“You know, it’s been a long day of foot lacerations, asthma attacks, and talking kids out of bad trips. You aren’t the first ankle injury, but it’s nice to mix it up,” the doctor observed as he worked. “They got ten more of these and a circus tent they’re using as a makeshift hospital. After the turnout, they realized they were nowhere near prepared enough for all this. Got doctors coming out from all over the state.”

“Where did you come from?” Harry wondered.

“Military,” the doctor said. “If they had to call us, that’s how you know it got out of hand.”

“Were you down in Nam?” Louis asked even though he was unsure he wanted to open up this conversation.

“Thankfully, no. I’d seen enough in Korea. Whenever they need me at home, though, I’m there.”

Louis wasn’t sure if he should say something along the lines of thanking him for his service, especially because of the political climate of where they were at the moment, so he decided a polite head nod was the way to go. Harry was taking a similar approach. No one asked about opinions of the war, which was good because this guy was probably double their age and would likely have a very different opinion form theirs.

Once he actually started getting to the bandaging, Harry leaned towards Louis to whisper, “Can we finish talking outside?”

Louis didn’t even want to acknowledge that he heard what Harry said, but since he had to, all he said was, “No.”

“No?” Harry blurted in confusion. “Why not?”

“I don’t want to talk to you right now,” Louis told him. He felt a little childish for saying it, but it wasn’t going to stop him from standing his ground.

“Well, when can we talk then?”

“I’ll let you know.”

“Damn, look at those clouds,” Niall said, his head turned towards a plastic window in the tent. “Looks like we’re in for another downpour.”

“I am not bathing in a river again,” Louis stated, barely sparing the window a glance. He didn’t even want to think about the possibility of rain again. They still had the rest of today to endure.

“The entire place is already a mud pit,” Harry said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they delayed more performers. Can’t operate that equipment in the rain.”

“I dunno how we’re gonna even make it outta here,” Louis shook his head.

“A lot of people left already, I’ve heard,” the doctor informed them. “At least half. Some of these kids just couldn’t stand it. This place has been declared a disaster area.”

“Well, we’re making it right to the end, right guys?” Niall looked at the other two like he was already sure of their answer. For someone who had been binge drinking all weekend and was in the middle of being treated for a possible broken foot, he was quite optimistic.

“I’m not missing Hendrix,” Harry agreed, and Louis could feel him staring out of the corner of his eye.

Louis coughed to clear his throat. “Yeah, I’m staying.” Then he turned to Harry and quietly said, “We had a deal, right?”

Harry nodded, face expressionless. “Right.”

It didn’t take long until Niall’s foot was wrapped tightly with compression bandages. They didn’t have any crutches for him, so the doctor made him promise about ten times that he wasn’t going to try and walk on it. He even watched while Harry and Louis helped Niall limp out, making sure his foot didn’t touch the ground. Louis would try to make him keep that promise, but there was only so much he could do. Niall operated on his own agenda.

Surprisingly, Liam and Zayn were already waiting for them outside the tent by the time they made it out. They had saved them a bologna sandwich each as well as a Dixie cup full of what looked like oats.

“What’s this?” Louis asked, peering into the cup.

“Looks like horse food,” Niall loudly commented.

“Granola,” Liam said. “I was told it was part of “Breakfast in bed for four hundred thousand.” Not my words.” Louis laughed, immediately thinking of how he could incorporate the line into his story. Wavy Gravy, the master of ceremony, had said it, Liam informed him. What a name.

Louis shook some of the granola into his mouth and crunched down. It didn’t have the most flavour, but was better than an empty stomach. He really wasn’t about to complain.

The five of them found a spot near a tree to eat, quite far from the stage but close enough to hear the mumblings of Joe Cocker belting the words to his version of _With A Little Help From My Friends_ by The Beatles. Niall had given up his plan to try and see the performance, probably knowing in the back of his mind the trouble it would take to actually get him there. Plus, the poor guy was coming off a bender with barely any sleep. He looked just about ready to pass out.

None of them had said a word while they sat there, crunching on granola and trying to get whatever protein they could from the bologna. Off in the distance and between a few more trees, it looked like some teenagers made their own mini stage out of plywood squares and were using an upside down garbage bin as a drum. At the moment, a boy with a guitar, not much younger than them, was doing a cover of _Blowin’ in the Wind_ by Bob Dylan. Despite his name not being on any flyers and this being the last day of the festival, some people still had faith that he would make an appearance. But for now, they were bringing him here in their own way.

Zayn was the first to stand up and join the crowd forming next to them. He didn’t say a word to anyone else, but they all followed. Except Niall, of course, who decided he was much more comfortable with taking a quick nap against the tree. They sat closer and listened quietly to this kid who was actually doing Dylan some justice. He even had a friend playing harmonica on stage with him, who played his part just as well. When they finished, praise had gone all around until a girl with a guitar had taken their place like it was a talent show. Everyone gave her their utmost attention.

“You should go up there,” Liam whispered to Harry, and even Louis knew that was a bad idea.

“I already did my set,” Harry laughed, brushing off the idea.

“But that was a professional gig in front of an audience who – somewhat – paid to see you. This is some kids playing from the heart. Don’t even do one of your own songs. Just a song you like.”

Harry’s lack of response made it seem like he was actually considering it, so Louis turned to give him a look that said “Are you serious?”

“What would I even play?” he asked Liam with that fake modesty of his. So Harry really didn’t care about blowing his cover at all, huh? He had gone so long with blending into the crowd, especially now that he was wearing a plain button-up t-shirt that he did not button up and some shorts, both of which Louis had lent him after their little swim yesterday. This was as close to this “real” life that he had gotten all weekend, only to get back on stage now.

But Louis wasn’t going to stop him.

“Anything you like,” said Liam. “Whatever’s been stuck in your head lately.”

The girl finished and the audience clapped, so Harry stood up. He looked around to make sure no one else wanted a turn first, then politely asked the girl if he could borrow her guitar. She said yes without any debate. Adjusting the strap, he slid it over his shoulder and strummed it to check the tuning.

There was no microphone in front of him, and the thirty or forty people around waiting quietly until he was ready. Louis was almost surprised that instead of addressing the crowd, or even really looking at them, Harry just started playing the low pulse of the baseline. Louis recognized the song right away, but Harry’s voice gave it a different and sweet edge that wasn’t there before. His eyes were closed as he sang.

“ _When the night has come, and the land is dark, and the moon is the only light we'll see._

_No, I won't be afraid. Oh, I won't be afraid._

_Just as long as you stand, stand by me.”_

Then Harry opened his eyes, and for the whole chorus he was looking at Louis. It was hard not to notice since there were so many places his eyes could drift to, but they only found him. With his knee propped up and his arm rested lazily on it, Louis gazed back. He didn’t know what this meant, but it was making his chest tight and he didn’t want to look away. Harry did once the verse came, and Louis let out the breath that had been trapped in his lungs.

When Harry finished, he earned a heavily biased amount of cheering. There was no doubt that his performance was good, but he was also Harry Styles. He was going to get heavy praise no matter what.

After greeting a few people who wanted to give their personal thoughts on how great that all was, Harry sat back down next to Louis. Which was odd, mainly because Louis remembered sitting between Liam and Zayn and nowhere close to Harry. Then he realized that Zayn was no longer next to him because he was now standing on the plywood himself.

Zayn had recruited two others to go up there with him as well. While he had his guitar in his hands, a boy was behind him at the makeshift drum and a girl stood next to him with a tambourine in her hand. When they started stomping, Louis didn’t understand how Zayn somehow planned all of this in his wordless state.

“Two, one, two, three four,” the girl counted, then Zayn started strumming as she sang the first verse of the John Lennon anti-war song that had been flowing into every young person’s ears this summer. Louis only heard it a couple times, but he knew the chorus because everyone did.

And when the chorus came around, the girl stepped away from the plywood and took people’s hands to lift them to their feet. She started clapping, and soon everyone was clapping along. Even Louis had been pulled to his feet and gave in so fast he didn’t even think about it.

The dynamic was less performer/audience and more communal. Everyone was the performer as they shouted the words in unison. Completely out of tune, but full of passion and feeling. Louis didn’t know if this was a protest or if this gathering was supposed to send some kind of message, but he couldn’t help but smile as the arms of swaying strangers were being thrown around each other.

No matter the purpose, these people were all in it together, and even more were joining in. Singing to the sky and for the people who couldn’t hear them, a feeling of love echoed through their voices. Louis looked up at Harry, not noticing until then that their arms had been linked together through the chain of people. For a few minutes Louis decided he could put his anger aside. As the song goes…

“ _All we are saying is give peace a chance…_ ”

Glancing back at the plywood stage, Louis noticed even Zayn was singing along. Or mouthing, at least. It was hard to tell with how loud everyone else’s voices were. It didn’t matter, though. He was the one who started this. Even though Zayn wasn’t using his own voice for whatever reason, he got everyone else here to use theirs. Somehow, that felt even more important.

So this is what it was like to feel like you’re part of something. Huh.

 

When the rain made its second appearance, some people didn’t seem to care, instead deciding to rid themselves of their clothes and dance as the droplets fell around them. Others opted to take shelter under clear plastic sheets and in whatever waterproof tent they could find. The friends had chosen the latter, finding themselves huddled in a tent that was conveniently abandoned by whoever brought it. They ended up so far from the van that Louis took it upon himself to search for someone willing to take them in until the rain passed. Discovering a shelter that was completely empty was even better.

When Louis first pushed open the flap of the entrance, it looked like a couple of birds had claimed it first. But as soon as an escape to the outside was made, they flew with all their might to get out of there. The friends had to dodge wings to get out of the birds’ way. At least they didn’t leave any gifts on the inside.

The five of them made a circle, the centre reserved exclusively for Niall’s outstretched bandaged up foot. They left the fabric door partially open so the smoke from the joint Zayn was about to light up could easily flow out. He placed it between his lips and flicked open his Zippo, but no flame appeared. He shook it and tried one more time, but still nothing.

“Out of juice?” Liam asked.

“I should have one,” Louis said, opening up his bag. After some shuffling around, he first found his cigarettes. Or cigarette, he should say. He was down to his last one and was really craving a smoke, but he didn’t want to be completely without just yet. He kept looking, then finally sighed. “I must’ve left it back at Pam and Sky’s van.”

“One of us has gotta have one,” Niall said, digging into his pocket. Everyone else did to, but all hands came out empty.

Harry started searching around him. “Maybe someone left theirs in here,” he said. But the tent was completely empty to begin with. Whoever set it up must’ve decided to ditch early and didn’t care enough to bring it with them. The five of them were grateful, even if it was so cramped that personal space was nearly impossible, and you couldn’t stand much more than a crouch. But no one was complaining because at least it was shielding them from the weather.

“There’s gotta be a million lighters out there. I’ll go ask someone,” Louis said since he was closest to the door. A tiny bit of rain wasn’t going to kill him. Especially if that’s all that stood in the way of splitting this joint.

Leaving his bag behind, Louis moved quickly to get out of there. He turned his head from side to side until he saw someone, using his arm to shield himself from the downpour. Anyone at all who was passing by would do, but only a few steps away met him with a tap on the shoulder.

“Need this?” a voice asked, hand outstretched.

Of course.

“You again!” Louis said, more accusatory than he intended. Then again, the outburst may have been valid. “You _are_ following me, aren’t you?”

“You don’t believe in coincidence, do you?” Deja asked softly. She was totally drenched, but seemed much less bothered by the rain.

“Not this many times. And how did you know I was looking for that?” He pointed to the lighter she was holding.

She stepped forward and opened his hand to place the Bic in it since he wasn’t taking it. “Cynthia and I have had our tent set up just over there,” she said, gesturing to a wide gathering of tents next to them. “I could argue that you’re the one following me.”

“It wouldn’t be a very strong argument.”

“You seem upset,” Deja observed, looking concerned.

“Yeah, well, it’s been a rough and strange weekend.” Louis had to shout because the rain was getting louder.

“How are things with Harry?”

“Why are you so concerned with-”

“That’s what’s bothering you, isn’t it?”

What was this, a therapy session? And how would Deja know just by looking at him that that was the problem? He didn’t even know this girl. Then she touched his arm softly, almost in a motherly way. She couldn’t have looked more sincere in her worry.

“I thought he was someone he isn’t. That’s all,” Louis said. So much for the quick search because he was absolutely soaked now.

“It could be that he _is_ who you think. He’s just afraid of showing it.”

Louis looked puzzled. “Do you know something I don’t?”

“You’re afraid too, aren’t you? Of what it could mean to be who you really are. It’s easy to do it with one person, but not so much when you think about facing the world.”

She definitely knew. There was no way she didn’t.

“Yeah, I am. But at least I know who I am.”

“Is he not allowed to also be afraid?”

Louis pushed his wet hair from his eyes as he tried to think. A part of him always knew this about himself no matter how much he tried to ignore it. Now that he was pretty sure his suspicions were true, there was no more ignoring it. Like he said, he knew who he was. But it really wasn’t the kind of thing he ever thought to talk about out loud. He supposed it was too late now.

“I just don’t know how I’m supposed to know if he’s telling me the truth.”

“Tell him your truth. Then the cards are in his hands. Look at where you are, Louis. You may never be around this much love again. Be afraid of the real world, sure. We all are. But here, you can be whoever you are.”

Louis lifted the corner of his mouth. “Sounds like a fantasy.”

“Go talk to him. Give him a chance to be honest,” Deja smiled.

A chance to be honest, Louis thought. Maybe he hadn’t given Harry a fair enough chance. In anything, really. Louis knew he was quick to judge in most situations, but Harry was showing a whole different side. One that couldn’t be found in a first impression. In fact, it took a lot or searching to find. Or maybe Harry was just willing to show it to him.

Deja started backing away. “I have to get back to Cynthia.”

“Wait, aren’t you going to want your lighter back?”

“Keep it,” she said.

Louis looked at it in his hands, then back up to her, but she was already out of sight.

Clasping his hand tight, Louis turned back to the tent and rushed to find warmth again. He wanted to process all of this, but it was still pouring so finding some isolation to think would have to wait. As soon as he stepped inside, he was met with a chorus of displeasure.

“What took you so long?”

“Man, you are soaked!”

“Did you even find a lighter?”

Louis flicked the lighter on long enough to show that he got it, then tossed it onto Zayn’s lap. He then pulled his shirt off his head in an attempt to ring out the access water outside of the tent. It wasn’t going to fix how drenched the rest of him was, but it would at least stop him from shivering.

Without actually breathing in any smoke, Zayn passed the joint to Niall because he was sitting right next to him. He then untied the long-sleeved plaid shirt that was around his waist and handed it to Louis.

“Thanks, man,” Louis smiled gratefully and pulled his arms through the sleeves. It was too big on him, and probably too big on Zayn as well, so instead of doing up the buttons he just wrapped each side tight around his torso.

“How long until you think this lets up?” Liam asked as smoked fell from his mouth.

“Could be a while. The sky was looking pretty dark,” Niall said. “Even then, we’re gonna be watching from a mud pit.”

“Maybe we should reconsider, you know, staying until the end. If it’s really going to be that difficult,” Harry suggested slowly, sounding defeated.

Louis turned his head towards him, trying to study his body language. He was holding his knees loosely to his chest and staring at his feet. Some water had gotten onto the floor of the tent, but that was likely Louis’ fault.

“Well, we could probably find someone to hitch with if we really wanted to,” Liam said, sounding like he was about ready to give up too. Zayn widened his eyes and started shaking his head, and Louis creased his eyebrows together.

“You guys can’t be serious,” Louis straightened his back as he looked between them. “We can’t leave yet. Zayn still hasn’t found his family group, Niall turned down a hospital trip he probably really needs in order to stay, and we haven’t even seen Hendrix yet. Come on, Harry, we had a deal.”

“Yeah, I’m not gonna- Wait, what deal?” Niall asked in a sudden confusion.

“Oh, we promised to stick together so one of us wouldn’t end up on our own. We both really wanted to see Hendrix,” Harry said casually.

Louis eyed him, almost surprised that Harry didn’t tell them his secret. So he really was going to hold up his end of the deal too. Louis couldn’t give up on his half, then. They were staying until the end, even if it was just to say they did it.

“And we still do,” Louis added sternly. “We can’t leave early when we already made it this far.”

“But maybe all of this is a sign that we should just call it quits,” Liam said. “The rain, Niall’s foot, not even being able to find a damn lighter…”

Niall laughed dryly. “You’re looking for signs in things that are too simple.”

“You don’t need a sign to tell you if you should stay or not,” Louis stressed. “Tell me, in five years or ten years or forty years when you’re telling your grandkids about that time that half a million kids showed up to a three day festival and somehow coexisted peacefully for the sake of music, and you were there, are you gonna be kicking yourself that you won’t be able to tell them the end of the story?”

Liam shook his head in amusement. “I’m not going to have any kids.”

“You’re missing the point!” Louis felt like he wanted to stand up but if he went any higher than his knees then his head would hit the roof. Instead, he just made his voice louder to compensate. “This festival is so much bigger than watching a few bands perform. Don’t you guys see that? There were supposed to be twenty-five thousand people here. Over four hundred thousand came out from all over the country. I mean, is it really about the music at this point? I haven’t even seen the main stage since last night, but I’m still here.”

Louis looked at each of them in the eye. He couldn’t recall a moment in his life where he had so much direct attention on him at once. But he wasn’t finished yet.

“I didn’t know any of you two days ago. Most of you didn’t know each other, either. It’s the people, man. And the love and this weird family of strangers that somehow came about. Every person here is now going to have at least one thing in common for the rest of their lives. This. I’m not ready to let it go yet.”

Silence flooded the tent. Nothing but rain and the noise from people outside occupied the dead air. Louis took a deep breath because whatever he said was either complete gibberish and was taking a while for these guys to understand, or he managed to strike a chord so perfectly in tune that it stunned them in their thoughts. Or maybe somewhere in the middle.

“I think we should stay,” Zayn said.

If Louis’ speech didn’t stun them in their thoughts, then hearing those words definitely did.

Everyone turned to look at Zayn, but Liam wasn’t giving anyone the chance to verbally react before he said, “I think so too.”

“I’m sorry, hold on one fucking second,” Niall said, holding up a hand to silence Liam. He looked intently to Zayn as he leaned forward. “So you do talk?”

Zayn looked at him carefully, then slowly shrugged. “If I’m sober and I have something I think I should say, then I do.”

“Why only when you’re sober?” Harry wondered.

“You’re _sober_?” Liam asked in surprise right after, but Louis was quick to tell him to shut up. He didn’t know how much longer they were going to have left before Zayn fell into his silence again. The joint had still been circling, but Harry was now holding it without passing.

“Because that’s when I have an empty mind. I use the grass to think. It’s a silent protest. No one can take away your thoughts.”

Louis looked around the tent, surprised that they were even getting this information. “What are you protesting? The war?”

Instead of answering, Zayn lifted a hand and stuck it down the collar of his own shirt. When he pulled it out again, dog tags hung from his neck.

“You were there,” Louis observed.

“I signed up for one tour when I turned eighteen and finished high school. I thought I was doing good for the country. Some people think they understand why our country is sending troops there, but as soon as we landed, we realized _we_ didn’t even know. It was a nightmare come to life. I watched my-”

Zayn froze with a lump caught in his throat. No one blamed him.

He reached his hand towards Harry. “Pass it here.”

Hesitantly, Harry did as Zayn asked. You can’t exactly say no to a guy reliving something as horrible as that.

“We can protest the war all we want, and we should, but we should also appreciate peace when we have it. Don’t call it quits early. Stay for Hendrix,” he said, then took one long drag.

They all watched him exhale, knowing he would once again fall silent. Then their eyes fell towards Harry. He was the only one who hadn’t voiced his decision yet. When Harry realized all attention was on him he cleared his throat.

“Alright,” he said. “Let’s stay ‘till the end.”

 

The next act didn’t take the stage until 6:30, three hours after Joe Cocker finished his set. Eventually, the friends found their way back to the van and seemed to enter into a whole other party. Sky and Pam had a new fire started in the usual pit. This one was bigger than ever before. More people had decided to join them, people who no one really knew but everyone was happy to see. A bottle was getting passed around as well as a few different substances to smoke. Louis decided to give into his craving and light up his last cigarette. He even shared it with Liam since he discovered he also ran out this morning.

For hours they sat around the fire, playing cards, drinking, watching as Rain tried to lead a dance after she woke up from her nap. The sun began to set over the hill and the music felt like it was getting louder. Louis knew he wanted to go down and check it out eventually, but they still had hours until Hendrix. At this rate, he might not even take the stage until the early hours of the morning. So instead Louis stayed put, his knees hugged to his chest as he sat on the still slightly damp grass, and took a small sip of the whiskey bottle every time it circled.

He noticed Niall was taking a pass on the drinks, and he sure didn’t blame him. He had his hurt foot propped up on Liam’s bag that was now stuffed with dirty clothes and that one blanket he claimed he brought but never used. When asked about it, Niall claimed that the pain wasn’t as bad as it was before. However, the chances he was lying so no one tried to force him to go to a hospital were very high. At least he wasn’t drinking alcohol like it was made to kill pain. Just because that was one of its common uses didn’t mean it was its purpose.

It had to be getting close to midnight, meaning they were about to enter into an unexpected fourth day of the initial three days of peace and music. Everyone’s face had an orange hue from the flames that both kept them warm and became their source of light. Louis was never much for camping, and the lack of facilities here reminded him why. Then again, he was starting the think the right people could make any experience more enjoyable than it seemed on the surface.

“Seattle was a whole other scene, man,” Liam was in the middle of telling one of the stories of his last three years on the road. The music from the stage worked as the background noise, just as it had been. He had everyone around the fire listening close. “I got dropped off there one time by this business man after I left a family group when they decided to go up north. Obviously I had no money, but the street scene was full of these, uh, workers. Hustlers, they were called. Had all sorts of ways of making money. I couldn’t keep up so I got enough for a bus ticket and got myself to Idaho. From there I found a new group to take me in and cross the northern border states. We ended up in this small commune in Pennsylvania. That’s where I met Zayn and his family group,” Liam pointed to him across the fire.

“So that’s where you’re living now?” Pam asked him, seeming to be more invested in his story than anyone.

“Maybe. If I decide to go back,” Liam shrugged. “I mean, if we ever find them. Zayn has to get back.” They all turned to him and he offered a tight-lipped smile in return.

“So you don’t know where you’re headed after this? If you don’t go back to Pennsylvania, I mean,” Harry asked. Sky and two people Louis did not know sat between them. He noticed Harry’s hair was looking unkempt from lack of management the last few days, and dark circles were starting to form under his eyes. Admittedly, he kind of looked a mess, but also like he was proud of it. Louis thought the disheveled look suited him every once in a while.

“I’ve never known where I was headed,” Liam laughed. “That’s what made it so interesting.”

“You like living like that?” It was hard to tell if Niall’s question was delivered with judgement, but there wasn’t any in his tone.

“Sometimes it’s hard, like finding a dime to help you get by. I’ve also met some incredible people this way, though. It just seems so much better than the alternative.”

“What’s the alternative?” Louis asked. He knew he wasn’t judging. As much as he loved his career, he admired the free spirit Liam carried with him.

“The capitalist so-called American dream,” he said, voice definitely filled with judgement. “Look, I know this isn’t going to be forever, but I’m having fun right now. Don’t you wish the peace and love here was what it was like in your everyday lives?”

Louis knew that on many levels a society couldn’t function if everyone was like some of the more extreme people here, but on the surface he agreed. If only people had the same open minds and positive spirits. Then at least, in some way, the world could find peace. It was a beautiful pipe dream.

“What about you, Louis?” Sky asked, leaning forward to look at him. “What’s your story, Mr. Man of Mystery?”

Louis laughed because the last thing he’d ever describe himself as was mysterious. “I dunno, I mean, I grew up in San Francisco. Normal childhood with parents and a couple of siblings. Went to college, and now I’m here.”

There was definitely a lot lost between ‘going to college’ and ‘here’, but Louis truly didn’t think there was anything too interesting about his life. Not that he could share, anyway. He didn’t travel the country to live in different communes or spend his days in a tour bus. He lived in a shitty apartment and went to work at 9 in the morning. Yeah, he met Led Zeppelin at a concert one time, but who hadn’t?

“What did you study in college?” Niall asked. There was a question he couldn’t answer, but luckily he was still quick-witted.

“Music,” Louis said, but almost immediately realized his mistake. “Theory,” he added, eyeing the guitar Zayn was holding. He knew he could play it, but was not about to perform in front of these people who were guaranteed to ask him to.

“This must really be your scene then,” Liam commented.

Louis smiled and nodded his head because it would help him get away with it. Then he realized maybe it was becoming his scene. Not in his everyday life, but right now. He was already a part of the culture. This was his generation, after all.

“Wait, so you said you’ve been to Seattle. What was it like?” one of the strangers asked Liam. Louis was happy the conversation had been lifted off of him. His own story was not one he was used to telling.

“I don’t really know. I didn’t get to see much of the good parts,” Liam said.

“Seattle is a cool city,” Harry said, hesitantly entering the conversation. “I’ve performed there a couple of times. Especially when I was doing bar shows.”

“Got any stories of wild nights?” Niall asked, who must’ve heard many wild stories in his twenty-something years. Lived them, too. But Louis was also very intrigued to hear what a wild night for Harry, in particular, was like.

“I don’t know. I mean…” Harry shrugged, but he was smiling in that shy way that hid the thoughts of “If only you knew…” Louis shot him an obvious look on purpose, his eyebrows raised with intrigue. He knew they’d be getting one of these stories. Harry just had to feign shyness so he didn’t seem so willing.

“Just tell us any story. You could make one up and we’d still probably believe you,” Pam insisted, and that just made him laugh.

“Okay, well, I guess I have one I could tell,” he began, raising his voice now that he had earned everyone’s attention. “Last summer I was travelling with some friends in South America and we got invited to Mick Jagger’s party. Well, I don’t even know if we were invited. We were at this bar show because I knew one of the guys in the band. Afterwards, we’re all hanging out in the green room and this girl comes up to us and asks if we were going to the party later. None of us have any idea what she was talking about but we said yes because we were there for a good time anyway. So a bunch of us pile into some cabs with this girl and her friends and she gives the drivers the address right from memory. Turns out that the girl is Marsha Hunt, the girl Mick had been seeing. She was friends with another one of the guys in the band and that’s why she was at the show. Anyway, we show up at this huge house and the party is in full swing. Probably had been for a few days since people usually go down there to do just that.”

“So did you actually hang out with Mick Jagger?” Liam asked eagerly.

“I don’t remember a ton from after I got there,” Harry admitted. “But he was there. All of the Stones were. I played Blackjack and split a joint with Pete Townshend, Roger Waters, and Robby Krieger. And I have these strange memories of seeing John Lennon in an empty pool and him giving me some great advice about music, but there was also a lot of shrooms and acid and who knows what else, so he might not even have been there at all. I mean, what else would you expect? And I don’t say any of this to brag. I had no place being at that party, but seeing all those people who had achieved so much… If I was in my right mind, I swear I would’ve been inspired.”

That left the rest of the group laughing, even Louis who wasn’t sure how much of the story he believed. Pam did say he could make one up, after all. Harry was grinning as he stared into the fire and accepted praise for his story of a ‘wild’ night.

Since Niall had been in the scene longer and probably had seen even more, it was unsurprising that he was asked to describe one of his own experiences next. As much as Louis would have loved to stay and listen, Harry met his eyes across the fire and he decided right then that now was as good a time as any.

As subtlety as he could, Louis gestured with his head to the side, pointing away from everyone else. Harry gave him an odd look with his eyebrows pulled together. Louis did it one more time, making his movements a little more obvious. Not getting the hint, Harry mouthed the word “What?” making this much more difficult than it needed to be.

With a roll of his eyes, Louis stood up and tiptoed around the outside of the circle, Harry’s eyes following him until he was squatted behind him. Niall was just beginning to explain the night after the last show on his band’s tour opening for The Byrds. Louis grabbed onto Harry’s arm to indicate he should stand up, then pulled him away from the fire without a word. Harry agreed easily, and Louis was quite content with no one asking where the two of them were going. Well, no one except Harry.

“Where are we going?” he asked, whispering because Louis’ silent movements gave the impression that this was something secretive.

“I’m ready to talk,” Louis stated simply as they moved further from the fire. He didn’t have an idea as to where they were going, but the break away from everyone else with a stroll through the cool air felt quite nice. At least that was one plus if everything else about this conversation went wrong.

“Okay, you go first,” Harry said, but Louis was shaking his head before the end of the sentence even came out of Harry’s mouth.

“You already know how I feel. I’m not defending myself again because I told you where I stand when it comes to this,” he gestured a finger between them, wondering if “this” even meant anything. “If it was just a night of having fun or a heat-of-the-moment mistake then tell me. We’ve only known each other a couple of days so you don’t owe me much, but you do owe me that.”

There. Louis said everything he had left to say. The cards were in Harry’s hands.

“You’re right,” Harry said. “I do owe you that.”

What Louis thought was a pause for Harry to collect his thoughts turned into to a sigh, then just more moments of silence. Louis turned his head to look at Harry properly as they walked, his eyebrows raised. “Well…?”

Instead of answering Harry stopped in his tracks, grabbed Louis’ hand firmly, then looked at him with a slight up curve of his mouth and said, “Come with me.”

Again, they started running.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Mild sexual content warning for the beginning of this part.*
> 
> That's all, folks! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments. Thanks so much for reading and sticking with me <3 -K

**Day Four - Monday**

Once they reached the long grass, Louis had a pretty good idea of where Harry was leading them to, but he didn’t know why. They could’ve had this conversation just as easily while walking around. But Louis followed anyway, not saying a word. As they trudged through the trees, getting further and further from any light source that wasn’t the moon, Harry seemed more determined.

When they finally stopped, Harry looked out at the empty body of water in front of him. He turned to Louis with an easy smile.

“What are we doing here?” Louis had to ask, looking between Harry and the river they had bathed in after the mud fight.

“I feel like going for a swim,” Harry said, then let go of Louis’ hand so he could take his own shirt off. Louis watched as he slowly pulled it over his head, bunched it up into a ball, and discarded it on the grass before doing the same with his pants.

“It’s cold,” Louis reminded him even though he found himself pulling at his own collar as well. It would be even colder now, without the sun.

“Good thing there’s a fire waiting to warm us up back at the van.”

Harry turned around again, moving closer to the water while Louis hesitantly undid the buckle on his pants. Whatever Harry needed to say better require a water demonstration to make his point clear because that was the only valid reason Louis could see for being dragged out here. Then again, he wasn’t sure how hard it would be for Harry to convince him to do this regardless. Either Louis was a pushover or Harry was good at persuasion. He decided to go with the latter.

What Louis wasn’t expecting was for Harry, right before he stepped into the water, to remove his underwear as well. He tossed it off to the side then ambled into the shallow water, bunching up his shoulders because it really was cold.

Harry turned around without saying a word, everything on display. Louis’ attempt to divert his eyes was half-hearted at best. He decided he was going to follow suit, but mainly because he didn’t want to get his underwear wet with river water. He was on his last pair, after all. And he also was not going to remove his hand from the front of his crotch. Harry may have revealed his sudden comfort with public nudity, but Louis was going to keep at least a bit of his modesty.

He took his steps carefully until the icy water was splashing on his thighs. He didn’t know why he was doing this. On Friday, this thought would’ve never even crossed his mind. And that meant doing this with anyone, not just Harry. But Harry had a weird way of getting into his head. By now, he had made a nice little room for himself there, with no plans of leaving any time soon.

“Is there a reason we are choosing to literally freeze our balls off?” Louis asked as he got closer to him. Once he was about waist deep he decided that was enough, keeping a slight distance from Harry. Louis still needed to hear what he had to say.

“It’s a nice night,” Harry said, smiling up at the stars that were once again so clearly in sight. The distant cheering from the crowd rumbled through the trees.

“You’re avoiding the conversation,” Louis pointed out.

Harry stopped moving, instead looking at the way the white light reflected in the smooth ripples. He blinked slowly as let his hands glide back and forth through the water. “Would it surprise you to hear that I’ve been having trouble forming my thoughts into words?”

Louis was keeping his arms as close to himself as he could in order to preserve body heat. “You’ve had a long time to do it,” he stated.

“I think it’s because I still have a lot more to think about. I do know one thing, though.”

“What’s that?”

“I wasn’t lying to you. I’ve done a lot of lying in my life whether I liked it or not, but funny enough, I haven’t told you one lie.”

“The story around the fire,” Louis countered. “That wasn’t true, was it?”

“I did go to a party in South America after a bar show,” Harry said, pointing a finger. “I did _think_ that I had a conversation in a pool with John Lennon while high on mushrooms. But I don’t remember what that girl’s name was, and I have no fucking clue whose party I was at.”

“I knew it,” Louis breathed a laugh. “Never played Blackjack with Pete Townshend, Roger Waters, and Robby Krieger either, did you?”

Harry shook his head. “Would’ve been cool though, don’t you think? You don’t have to keep that story off the record. It’s not like those guys would remember if it happened or not.” He was kidding, of course, but the last thing Louis was thinking about right now was that damn article.

“Why did you make it up?” If Louis knew the answer, maybe he’d get a better sense of what actually went on in that brain of his.

“They wanted a good story, so I gave them one,” Harry shrugged. “It’s what I do.”

“So one lie, then,” Louis corrected.

“To be fair, that wasn’t directed at you. I haven’t lied _to you._ ”

“Saying nothing isn’t the same as telling the truth.”

Harry sighed, realizing that he wasn’t going to be able to walk around questions forever. He owed Louis this.

“There’s nothing I can promise you,” he said. “The idea of all of this, to be quite honest, scares the shit out of me. But I’m not going to let that stop me anymore. I don’t know what’s going to happen down the road, but I want to see you again. After this weekend. I want to keep seeing you.”

“Oh,” Louis said.

“I mean, if you want to keep seeing me.”

“I’m seeing you right now.”

“Is that all you want?”

It wasn’t, but it was all Louis could think to say. Obviously he liked Harry. There was a reason he hadn’t been able to stop thinking all day about him or this conversation or what that kiss last night felt like. The soft touch of his fingertips, and of his lips against his. He didn’t know what any of this meant or what it could turn into, but he was willing to find out. And now here Harry was, finally telling his truth.

The water sloshed quietly as Harry stepped closer to him. He looked worried so Louis reached a cold hand out. The touch against his arm made Harry smile.

“I’m scared too, you know,” Louis spoke honestly. “I haven’t done this before either. But I do want to. Keep seeing you, I mean.”

“And right now?” Harry asked playfully.

“And right now,” Louis said, bringing a hand to his jaw. He swiped his thumb across Harry’s cheekbone.

“Good,” Harry smiled, then leaned down until their lips found each other again.

His lips were just as soft as Louis remembered. So were his fingertips as they pressed into the bare skin just below Louis’ ribs. In a rush of excitement, he pulled Harry closer until their bodies were practically pressed together. With one hand he was holding Harry’s waist, and with the other he was cradling his cheek. He knew his lips had to be cold but Harry’s tasted too sweet to want to leave them.

What Louis was feeling right now he knew came from lust. That’s all it could be. You don’t know someone for two days and decide you’re ready to be with them. But that tingling he felt every time Harry looked at him, those rosy cheeks that were so hard to get rid of, the schoolyard butterflies-in-your-stomach that made you want to run the other way and right into a cute boy’s arms at the same time, that was all Louis could feel. Not just when he was kissing him. When he caught Harry’s eye across the stage, when he was about to fall asleep in the back of the van, when he playfully slapped that handful of mud across his cheek, when he felt his fingers gently massaging his scalp to get his hair clean in this very river, and when they laid next to each other in the grass, staring up at the stars and believing in a fantasy, that feeling was ever present. Even more so than any kind of fear.

Everything felt a lot less scary with Harry’s arms wrapped around him. And the water didn’t feel so cold.

With lips parted, Louis allowed the kiss to go deeper. He let his fingers run through the curls at the bottom of Harry’s neck, and Harry kept letting his hands explore further. When Louis’ thigh ended up between his, he could feel where this was going being pressed against it. Moving his hand further down, he let it take the place of his thigh instead. Harry’s grasp on his waist got tighter at the touch. As Louis started moving his hand back and forth, he could feel Harry’s breathing becoming heavier.

He left his lips only to kiss along Harry’s jaw, then down to his neck. A small noise came involuntarily from his throat, followed by a short gasp that only gave Louis more encouragement. On his own neck, he could feel the stream of hot air escaping Harry’s mouth. He didn’t stop, instead quickening his movements. He kissed Harry again, but the way his lips moved so much lazier than before told Louis he was close. His hips were rocking with it and Louis was having trouble keeping himself together.

The next gasps came louder, and they were so close he could feel the muscles in Harry’s stomach contracting. Louis kissed the corner of his open mouth as he helped him through it. He felt almost pleased with himself, but every gasp and stroke had just made Louis desperate for the same touch.

Breathlessly, Harry rested his forehead against Louis’. “You’re good at that,” he let out with a short laugh.

“Beginner’s luck,” Louis joked, despite the way his body was begging for more of this.

Harry leaned down to kiss him softly, just a peck, then said, “Now let me take care of you.”

Since he had a habit of keeping Louis in the dark until the last possible moment, Harry took him by the hand and lead them back to the shore. Louis would normally be uncomfortable with how much of himself was becoming visible as they moved through the shallow water, but all he could think about was how he wanted to hold Harry again.

“Lay down,” Harry instructed once they reached the small clearing of grass where they had left their clothes. “Just relax.”

As he did so, he brought Harry with him. They met in another deep kiss as grass tickled Louis’ ears. And then Harry moved the kiss to his chin, and then down his neck and to his chest. As he kept moving, lips trailing across his abdomen, Louis felt a shudder move with them. When Harry reached where he was headed, Louis’ jaw fell on instinct. Already, he knew he wasn’t going to last long. Not after the show Harry had just put on for him in the water.

With Harry’s head moving up and down, Louis struggled to keep his hips on the ground. He kept his eyes tightly shut, focused on the feeling as he let his fingers thread through Harry’s hair. The pacing wasn’t consistent, making Louis wonder if he was just trying to tease him. If so, it was working. He tried to let Harry know when he was right at the cusp of finishing, but Harry wasn’t letting up. The tightening began and he couldn’t help the arch his back had formed. His breath got caught in his throat when the rush came through his body. The brief high was better than anything he had put into his body over these last few days.

Once Louis could breathe normally again, Harry crawled back up to lay next to him, a proud smirk swiped across his face. Louis’ chest was still rising and falling quite heavily, so he might’ve still been a little out of breath.

“You’re too good at that for it to be beginners luck,” Louis said. Harry almost snorted, then drew Louis to him again with a finger rested under his chin.

“Must be a natural talent, I guess,” he said, then kissed him again.

They laid there a little while longer just to enjoy the quiet peace before going back to the hectic crowds of the festival. Louis was not going to sleep on the grass out here tonight. He didn’t know if he was going to sleep at all, actually. Not until Hendrix finished his set, at least.

It took some self-motivating for them to eventually put their clothes back on. They had managed to waste enough time that they were both pretty much dry when it came time to head back. While Harry seemed perfectly content with laying under the stars until the sun made its morning appearance, Louis reminded him that they couldn’t miss the final act. Not after all they had been through to make it here.

As they trudged back through the trees, Louis took Harry’s hand to hold. He knew they wouldn’t be able to once they reached the crowd again, but he’d take the little time they had. For now, they had to steal their moments. Louis knew it wouldn’t be like that forever. He was sure of it.

From a few feet away, the cracking sound of a twig ricocheted through the trees. Louis turned his head in the direction of the noise, but Harry didn’t seem to hear it. Against a tree, he could make out two figures who seemed to be in the midst of a passionate kiss. He was about to look away to give them their privacy, but then one of them turned around. Deja. She met his eye, smiled, then took the hand of the person she was with to walk deeper into the forest. When she stepped out of the way, it was clear the person she was kissing was Cynthia.

With all that talk about living your truth, Deja must’ve really known what she was saying. Louis looked at the ground and smiled to himself. Maybe she wasn’t so strange after all.

 

“When did you guys leave?” Niall asked as soon as Harry and Louis approached the fire. Zayn had his guitar out as the designated entertainment between bands. He was strumming quietly and no one sang only because they were too busy talking and laughing and becoming friends.

“I dunno. Twenty minutes ago,” Harry said, which wasn’t even close to being accurate. There was no way they left any less than an hour ago.

“Where did you go?” he pressed.

“To piss in peace,” Louis said, loud enough to end the conversation all together. He walked around to where Liam was sat and took the bottle of clear liquid that he was resting on his knee. Vodka, tequila, gin, he didn’t care what it was. He took a swig. It was water.

Disappointed, he handed it back to Liam and instead went for the bottle of a much darker liquid that Sky was offering to him. Ah, whiskey. That was more like it. Now that his brain could relax for a little while – even though the memories of the river were still fresh and exciting in his mind – and join the last of the party. He wanted a few drinks, a few tokes, and then to sit in that crowd and listen to Jimi Hendrix play a few songs to send them home on a beautiful high.

At 3am, the friends decided to make their move closer to the stage. The crowd had gotten considerably smaller, but that was when you compared it to the half a million people that had taken over this farm by Saturday. Sky carried a sleeping Rain on his back as they searched for a spot to sit on the grass. They watched and listened to Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young play _Find the Cost of Freedom_ while waiting for the sun to rise.

Another bottle was passed around, and so were smokes, and the line was being blurred between who were friends and who were strangers. Louis made sure to sit next to Harry because he wasn’t afraid to anymore. He knew the truth now, and he knew it was okay. He rested his head on Harry’s shoulder and Harry brought the joint he was holding to his own lips, and then to Louis’ as he exhaled. Louis had to fight to keep his eyes open, but he wasn’t going to give up. He was having so much fun.

They were so close to the end.

And then it happened.

At 9am, with less than 200,000 people left in attendance, the ones who persevered got to witness a performance made for history: Jimi Hendrix and Gypsy Sun & Rainbows taking the stage for the final show. A red scarf was tied tight around Jimi’s head, and the frills from his shirt danced behind his guitar as his fingers danced along the neck. Louis couldn’t tell so much because of how many people were between him and the stage, but the images and videos that would live on forever were unforgettable.

Every song was met with as much energy as the crowd could foster. They weren’t at their peak, but they were here. They made it. Three days of not sleeping nearly enough, eating bread to get them through the day, getting covered in filth, drinking or smoking whatever they could find, listening to great music that would define their generation, and making new friends that they may never even see again. None of it mattered, but in the grand scheme of things it all did. Half a million kids showed their combined power of believing in the same thing. Whether they came for the music or stayed for the people, they were here. They were part of it.

The friends all rose to their feet and had their arms raised in the air and cheered in all the right and wrong places. Louis was feeling a little high and, honestly, a little relieved. He didn’t know what would become of anyone after this, but he knew that he was going to go home, sleep in his own bed, go into the office, and write about the first time he experienced something that truly felt like it shifted his life. And hopefully, maybe, see some of these people again. One of them in particular.

Really, he wanted to see all of them again: Liam, Niall, Zayn, Sky, Pam. They were some of the best people he’d ever met. They were all going their separate ways, but he wouldn’t forget them. Besides, he got all those pictures from the last few days. Maybe they would see themselves in Rolling Stone somewhere down the road.

Hendrix’s hands slid up the neck of guitar, the power chords screeching across the field. The first notes came of _The Star-Spangled Banner_ and the audience responded with confused yet excited applause. His rendition was electrifying and so easily captivated the crowd. It shouldn’t have worked in this climate of anti-establishment and fighting The Man, but it did. Because this country was theirs too, no matter the politics they disagreed with.

The national anthem so perfectly transitioned into _Purple Haze_. As the guitar and voice echoed, Harry leaned down to whisper in Louis’ ear. “I’m so glad we stayed.”

“Me too,” Louis said.

Harry was still looking at him. “Thank you.”

Louis tilted his head in confusion. “What for?”

His smile got wider, and the music seemed to get louder. “For being the reason.”

_“Actin' funny, but I don't know why_

_Excuse me while I kiss the sky…”_

 

The field wasn’t empty. People left, piled into cars, hitched rides, tried to find anywhere that would have a place to sleep or shower. They took their memories with them and left a few behind. Even more than that, they left so much _garbage._

From a distance, the aftermath might’ve looked like a crowd still remained. More belongings and waste were left behind than people that came. The deeming of the festival as a disaster area was finally coming true.

The friends walked through the mess to get back to the van, eyes surrounded in dark circles and movements lethargic. Rain was again asleep on her father’s back, and Louis found himself envying her for be able to do so. Sleep sounded like the best thing in the world right about now. Then again, he also liked where he was right now, with his and Harry’s arms swung over each other’s shoulders as they walked. It looked casual enough to not be questioned. Not that Louis cared so much, but he knew the cost at Harry’s expense. Although, he didn’t seem to be minding too much either.

Across their path, a young kid who couldn’t be more than sixteen stopped in his tracks. He was with two other boys as well, who looked about the same age. “Woah. You’re that guy!” The boy exclaimed in amazement, pointing at Harry.

“What guy?” Harry asked, but the grin on his face revealed his sarcasm.

“Harry Styles, man,” one of the boy’s friends said.

“Oh, I guess that is me.”

“And you’re that other guy!” the third friend cheered, pointing at Niall. “The drummer!”

“That’s me, ‘the drummer’. Nice to meet ‘ya,” Niall waved. He was limping with one arm around Liam and the other around Pam.

“What happened to your foot?” he asked.

“This goddamn festival happened,” Niall said. “I risked my life to be here.”

“That’s far out, man,” the kids said, looking genuinely impressed. Louis had to turn his head into Harry’s shoulder to laugh. This encounter was so strange for him that he didn’t know how else to respond.

“You guys were both really great out there on Friday, man. We actually just came to see you guys, but we ended up staying the rest of the days once we found out how wild everything was getting,” the first one said.

“Thanks!”

The kids weren’t finished. “And good thing we did. I mean, Jimi Hendrix? That was insane.”

“It was something, wasn’t it?” Harry smiled. “We gotta get back, but it was cool meeting you guys.”

“You too, man. Can’t wait to see you again on tour! And for that second record!” They cheered, and then they were off with a wave. Harry waved back, but Louis could see in his eyes how deep he was in thought.

“How often does that happen to you?” Louis asked as the friends continued on.

“It happens sometimes. I don’t mind it, though. It’s nice that people care about what I do. One of those things that keeps me inspired, like you were talking about.”

“It’s all tied together,” Louis said.

“Yeah, I think I’m starting to get that now.”

Once they reached the van, the only job was to get everything packed up so they could get the hell out of there. Pam and Sky happily offered to drop the other five off anywhere they liked on the way back to their house, which luckily passed the nearest airport. Louis was glad to take them up on that offer. He wanted to be on the earliest flight that would take him home to San Francisco.

They tried to take as many of the bottles and remains from their site as they could, trying not to add any more to this mess that would take days to clean up as it was. Everyone piled into the back of the van while Sky slid into the driver’s seat and started up the engine. He turned the wheel and headed for the lineup of cars near the road that was still waiting to get out. This would be a while.

Louis was sad about leaving, but in some ways he also wasn’t. Everything he’d miss most was still in this car. Except for one person, that is. He wished he at least got to say goodbye to her.

“I have an announcement,” Niall said from the back corner he’d taken up as his space. While the van was carpeted, they were all sitting on the piles of pillows and blankets for extra cushioning. Louis was right about that ripe smell, but at least Sky had cracked the windows before they left.

“What is it?” Louis asked for everyone’s benefit.

“No more benders,” Niall said seriously, a finger raised in the air. “And no more drinking for at least a month.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Harry said, which was a nice way of agreeing that Niall should take a break before any problems developed.

“I decided one broken limb is enough for me. Speaking of that, Pam-?”

“We already added the hospital to the route. We’ll make sure you’re taken care of before you head home,” Pam smiled.

“You’re a saint, Pam. Truly,” Niall said, his hands clasped together like he was praying.

“She really is. You fed and housed us for almost four days. You’re like our festival mom,” Liam said.

“I’m the same age as you all, but I’ll take it,” she laughed.

“Come on, let’s give it up for Festival Mom!” Harry cheered while starting to clap. It easily caught on to the rest of them, even Sky and Rain. Pam blushed as they hooted and hollered and Zayn gave her a friendly kiss on the cheek because he was sitting right beside her.

“You guys are sweet,” she smiled as they faded out. The appreciation was well deserved.

“Speaking of moms,” Liam said, looking down at his hands. “I think I’m going to head back to Missouri. It’s been long enough and I think I should see my parents.”

“When’s the last time you talked to them?” Louis wondered, hoping his wasn’t prying. But Liam did bring this up on his own.

“Six months ago. I’m going to give them a call when we get to a city, though. To give them a heads up.”

“What made you decide this?” Harry asked.

“I’ve been on the road for years, trying to experience life. It’s always been lonely and I’ve found ways to get through that, but this weekend reminded me what family was like. I guess I miss them. They may not understand any of this, but they still love me. I owe them a visit.”

With a motherly pat on the back, Pam said, “I think they’ll be really happy to see you.”

Sky glanced in the rear view mirror. “Do you want us to drop you off at a bus station or airport?” he asked.

“Anywhere near a city is fine, if it’s not too much trouble. I can hitch a ride.”

“I’ve got a better idea,” Niall said, then leaned forward to grab something out of his back pocket. He was fishing in his wallet for a few bills, then pulled them out to hand over. “Drop him off at a bus station,” he told Sky.

Liam immediately shook his head. “I can’t take that.”

“You carried my drunk ass halfway across that field. Consider it a gift for your trouble. Or even just a gift between friends. Trust me, you aren’t going to make me hurt for cash.”

He eyed the bills in Niall hand reluctantly, then slowly reached his hand out. “Thank you for this. Really. I owe you one.”

“You owe me nothing,” Niall affirmed as his tucked his wallet away. “Tell mom and pops that I say hi.”

Getting away from Bethel felt like it took hours. Most people had already left by Sunday, but the chaos had continued on. Once they were on the freeway there was no looking back. With the idea of home on the horizon, no one wanted to. Since White Lake was too close, they decided to stop in a town called Liberty about ten miles further. The main reason to stop was for gas. Being able to use a flush toilet and sink again were also high on the pros list.

The old man sitting behind the counter was eyeing them all as he held the key for the bathroom in his hand. It was attached to a large wooden bird, as if that would stop anyone from stealing it. “You guys here from that concert down the road? Woodstock, was it?” he asked in a rough voice.

“We are,” Liam said. Everyone turned to glare at him while Zayn pinched him in the arm. They all needed this key, and by the sounds of it that was the last thing this man wanted to hear.

“Heard you all caused quite the ruckus in Bethel,” he continued.

“It wasn’t that bad actually, sir,” Louis said, thinking about what it would be like to be able to wash his hands and face with clean water again.

“Everyone was really civil. It was more about peace and the music, than anything,” Harry added.

“So I’ve been hearing,” the man sneered. “Lot of people been in and out of here, using that bathroom.”

“Must’ve been great for business!” Niall said, trying to sound hopeful.

“I don’t own the place. I just know more people means more work.”

“Are you boys paying?” Pam asked, Rain on her hip and a basket full of snacks in her arms. They made a path so she could get to the till. “Oh, good. While you ring all this up, would you mind if I had the key for the bathrooms? My daughter really needs it. Been a long car ride,” she laughed, her tone even more friendly than usual.

“Sure thing, ma’am,” the man said, handing her the wooden bird. “Just around the corner outside.”

“Thank you so much,” Pam grinned. Once it was in her hand, she winked at the others and signaled for them to follow her. Festival Mom was there to save them again. They all snickered as they walked out the door, avoiding eye contact with the man who now held an ice glare.

Pam and Rain did get to go first, since it was her who got the key after all. The rest formed a lineup outside the door, passing the key down so everyone could get a turn. Niall was up next so he wouldn’t have to spend so much time limping on his broken foot. Louis was second last right in front of Harry, just happy they even got the key.

At the entrance of the parking lot, while they were waiting on Niall, a small school bus was pulling into the gas station. The entire thing was painted a light blue with a bright yellow sun rising from the middle. It parked at one of the pumps and everyone casually turned to look at it. When Zayn did, his eyes shot wider and he took off running.

“Where is he going?” Harry asked.

They watched as Zayn ran right up to the first person who walked out of the bus, a woman looking to be in her late thirties or early forties, and wrapped his arms around her in a hug. He did the same to the next three people who exited behind her.

“I can’t believe they found him,” Liam smiled, shaking his head in disbelief. “That’s the bus from the commune I was staying with. That’s Zayn’s family group.”

“How the hell did you lose _that_ bus?” Louis said, using his hand to block the sun from his eyes as he continued to watch.

“They accidentally left us at a gas station like this on the way here,” Liam explained. “We were smoking up around back and didn’t hear the call to get back on the bus. We ended up hitching the last hour of the drive. I’m glad he found them.”

“Looks like they missed him,” Harry said. They all had smiles on their faces as they spoke eagerly to Zayn. It was assumed he wasn’t saying much back to them.

“They really were like a family down there,” Liam said.

“You’re not going back with them too?” Louis asked.

He shook his head. “I need to see my parents. If I ever decided to come back to this life, though, that’s the first place I’d go. To see Zayn, if nothing else.”

“You guys got along well, didn’t you?” Louis said.

“Yeah, we did. For a guy who doesn’t say much, he sure taught me a lot.”

While the others stayed waiting, Zayn came running back to the group. He was smiling, which was an odd sight coming from him. He gestured with a thumb to the others behind him.

“That’s great that you found them,” Harry said.

 “We’re gonna miss you, man. Who else can I smoke with and avoid small talk?” Louis joked.

Zayn went to take Liam by his arm to signal they should go, but Liam shook his head. “I can’t go back. I have to go home for a little while.”

Zayn’s face fell as he let his arm go.

“I’m gonna come back to visit. I promise,” Liam said. Not able to react in any other way, Zayn stepped forward to give him an abrupt hug. Liam looked slightly taken aback, but then smiled and held him for a few moments. Zayn went on to hug the others as well, and even Niall as soon as he walked out of the bathroom.

“Hey, man. What’s going- Oh. What are you-?”

Louis pointed with his head to the bus. Looking over Zayn’s shoulder, Niall got the hint pretty quick.

Zayn stepped back and looked at them all again. He placed a hand on Liam’s shoulder, matched his smile that was growing from sad to happy, then started to walk away. But when he got about halfway, he turned around. They all began to wave, but instead Zayn raised two fingers in the air.

“Peace,” he said, then hurried to join his family.

“What an odd guy,” Niall laughed as he started to limp back to the van. “Can’t say I won’t miss ‘im, though.”

Once Louis got his turn in the bathroom, the first thing he did was take a handful of water to splash on his face. First cold, and then warm. He was pretty sure it was the most refreshing thing he ever felt. A nice preview to the shower he’d be having later tonight.

While Harry took his turn, Louis decided to have a smoke while he waited outside the door. The others were hanging out around the van, getting those last leg stretches before the next few hours of driving. Louis dug into his bag and pulled out his pack. One look made him throw his head back and groan. Of course. He forgot that he ran out this morning. Good thing they were at a gas station.

“Need to bum a smoke?”

Louis didn’t have to turn around to see who this was. He already knew because that voice was the source of every surprise. He wanted to be shocked, and part of him was, but he also completely expected it.

“You are following me,” Louis stated. It wasn’t a question this time.

“Someone’s gotta stick around to knock some sense into you.”

“How did you know I was here?”

“Well, you just said I was following you,” Deja pointed out.

“But why?”

“You needed a smoke.”

“I can just go inside and buy some more.”

“I only have two left. I’ve been thinking I should quit, anyway. Take the last one off my hands.”

“What happened to your smoking plan?” Louis asked, reaching out to accept the offer. He learned during their first meeting that disputing wasn’t going to get him very far.

“It changes all the time,” she said, lighting his cigarette for him before her own. Deja breathed in the smoke, then let it all out in one narrow stream. “Have cigarettes always tasted like shit?”

“Yup,” Louis laughed, letting out his own first puff. “I saw you last night. In the forest.”

“I know,” she smiled. “I saw you too.”

“So Cynthia, are you and her… Is she your…?”

“Girlfriend?” Deja raised an eyebrow.

“I guess, yeah.”

“She’s the love of my life,” Deja said with a wide smile. “Is Harry your…” she left the sentence hanging on purpose.

Louis shrugged. “Friend. So far.” But then he smirked as be brought the smoke to his mouth again.

“You know, Louis, we’re leading a generation of change,” Deja said, staring straight ahead at the empty parking lot in front of them, as if that represented the world. “Look at the civil rights movement and the anti-war protests going on. You can feel the progression working. We’re going to have to work for it, but one day we might not have to be so scared anymore. We shouldn’t have to escape life for a weekend to feel peace around us all the time, don’t you think?”

Louis smiled. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “That’s the kind of country I’d want to live in. That’s the kind of _world_ I’d want to live in.”

“Me too,” Deja said, stomping out the last of her cigarette. She hadn’t even finished it yet. “I think that means my job here is done.”

“Job?” Louis tilted his head, giving her a strange look. “What are you, my assigned guardian angel? My fairy godmother?”

“Fairy godmother?” Deja laughed, shaking her head. “You believe in those fantasies?”

“Hey, ready to go?” Harry asked as he opened the bathroom door, a bright expression lighting up his face. Louis turned around to greet him.

“Yeah, let me just say bye to-”

But again she was gone.

 

At the back of the van, Louis was sitting leaned up against the wall with his legs stretched out in front of him. Harry was right next to him, laying on his back with an old _Archie_ comic book he found back there hovering above his head. Everyone else had fallen asleep as soon as they left the gas station, except for Sky and that was only because he was behind the wheel. Louis reached a hand out to run a few fingers through Harry’s hair. Feeling the gentle tickle, Harry looked up and smiled with the corner of his mouth.

“You’re not tired?” Louis asked. The last time Harry slept was also the last time he slept, so over twenty-four hours ago now.

“I’m exhausted,” he said. “But I’ve never really been able to sleep in cars. Makes it hard to get rest when half your job is travelling.”

“Speaking of travelling, you never said where you’re going from here.”

“I’ll just head back to the airport with you. I have to go home to Manhattan to pack for tour.”

Right. He forgot all about that. That everyone had lives outside of the festival. Jobs, commitments, responsibilities… Everything this weekend was lacking.

“Three months across the country,” Harry stated, unprompted. “Are you going to come to the San Francisco show? I know someone who can hook you up with some great tickets if you don’t mind a rear view of the stage.”

Louis laughed. “I’ll see if I can fit it into my schedule. Music journalism is a busy gig, you know.”

Funny thing was, he was going to get assigned to review that show if he got the interview. Harry’s offer was sounding a lot better.

Without saying anything, Harry dropped his book and sat up, eyes narrowed on Louis’ bag. He picked it up and pulled out a pencil along with the notebook. Louis would stop him if he didn’t look so casual about it. Flipping open the back cover, he ripped out the last page that was completely blank. Louis gave him a funny look.

“If those tickets are going to get to you, I’m going to need a number to call. For my manager, I mean. Definitely not for me to call you,” he smirked.

Louis took the paper and pen to scribble down two numbers. One for his work office, and another for his apartment. “The first one is for your manager,” he said, handing the folded up paper back. “The second one is for you. Don’t use it though,” he warned.

Harry laughed with his eyes. “I wouldn’t think of it.”

The smirk that followed made Louis want to kiss him again. He couldn’t do that here, clearly, but he could daydream about when they’d get a moment alone together again. Maybe somewhere with a door and furniture instead of a river and grass. A bed would be nice. There’s a lot you can do with a bed.

He was going to have to be careful with where these daydreams were taking him. It would be a while before any of them could come to life.

Niall was the next person on the list of drop-offs. Liam would have to be last at the bus station, meaning the airport would be right after this. Sky helped Niall out of the car near the drop-off area even though he’d been walking on his foot since yesterday, despite the doctor’s orders. It was a slight limp, at least. And he’d hop when he could, but if that really was a break then, well, Louis wished him luck.

“You better use that money for a bus ticket,” Niall was pointing a finger through the sliding door at Liam.

“Believe me, I’m ready to go home.”

Admittedly, none of them could really tell how trustworthy Liam was. Especially Louis after watching him protest capital gain by leading a group of people onto the festival grounds without paying for a ticket.

Then again, Liam also seemed so genuine in his discussions of his life and his parents. It was unlikely that he’d take the money and head off to some other commune. If that was his plan then he probably would’ve went back with Zayn, but he stayed. Louis supposed that everyone could’ve been lying this weekend. Hell, he certainly was, and Harry admitted to it this morning. Some people have to spend their lives lying, no matter how much they don’t want to.

You can’t take everything you hear at face value. That was something Louis learned the moment he started on his career path. But you can give people the benefit of the doubt. Good people want to be honest, and Louis knew he was around good people. Bad people don’t share their van so strangers could have a place to sleep, or stick with an acquaintance to help them find their family, or dedicate their purpose to ending a war that was killing innocent people, or pay for a ticket for someone they just met to go visit their parents. And good people don’t always tell the truth.

“Next time you see someone stupidly obtain a possibly serious injury while in some intoxicated state, I hope it makes you think of me,” Niall announced, and just as dramatically took a bow. “I will miss you all, but if I’m ever touring in a city near you, tell security you’re my cousin. I’m sure it’ll work,” he winked.

“And if we’re nowhere near you?” Louis said, matching his tone to the wonder in Niall’s voice.

“Then I’ll be an arm’s length away,” he said, then limped away as nonchalantly as he could towards the main entrance. Sky still walked him in, just in case.

Harry laughed, looking confusedly to the others. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Liam shrugged, folding his arms together as he sat back. That was when he noticed the pen marks scrawled across his forearm. In excitement, he lifted his arm in the air.

“Oh!” he exclaimed. “Niall wrote his number on my arm when we left after the mud fight. Told me he’d show me the best pubs in whatever city I’m closest to when I call. Apparently, he knows them all.”

Harry shook his head, the corner of his mouth raised as he looked back to his comic. “That doesn’t surprise me,” he said.

“Here,” Liam was looking at Louis. “Write it down for yourself.”

Grabbing that pen from Harry again, he flipped the paper over and started scribbling the numbers down one by one. He didn’t know when the next time he’d need to call Niall was. Maybe their jobs would make them cross paths again. Plus, there was also the half-interview Louis gave him backstage. Maybe the article would put them in touch again.

“I just realized,” Louis said, capping his pen and tossing it back in his bag. “We never got Zayn’s phone number, or even an address. How are we ever going to see him again?”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that,” Liam said, relaxing back into his nest of pillows and bunched up blankets that he no longer had to share with Zayn or Niall. He folded his hands behind his head, closing his eyes like he was getting ready for another nap. “If he wants to find you again, he will. He always does.”

The rest of the drive was long, and Louis hated to remind himself that once they go the airport, he still had a six hour fight ahead of him. That wasn’t even including however long he’d have to wait for a flight he could actually get a seat on. But he couldn’t complain, really. He came here by choice for one reason, and left with even more than he imagined. Not getting that one dumb interview wasn’t going to ruin his career. He wasn’t going to write his best piece at twenty-two years old. But with the material he got from the festival, he was still going to write a damn good one.

At some point in time Louis must have fallen asleep. Or at least let his eyes get some rest for a few moments, because when he opened them again he realized his folded in legs were being used as pillows. On his left was Harry, his head turned and a hand rested on Louis’ knee as he breathed slowly. On the left was Rain, curled up in a ball and probably mistaking him for one of her parents while she was half asleep. Louis didn’t mind so much in either case. They needed their sleep, so he wasn’t going to move.

Across the van he met Pam’s eye, who was sitting behind the passenger seat with her back leaned against it. She was smiling over the paperback book she held in her hands.

“You want me to take her?” she whispered so as to not wake anyone up. Liam was completely sprawled out in the middle of the floor, likely unaware that he had fallen asleep that way.

“It’s okay,” Louis said. “They look comfy.”

Pam lifted the corner of her mouth again, then let her eyes fall back down to the pages. Louis would have to remember to get a number for her and Sky as well before he left. Who knows when he was going to find himself in upstate New York again?

Slowly, Louis lifted his hand to brush away some of the hair that looked like it had fallen into Harry’s face. As soon as he felt him stir, he pulled his hand away. Harry turned from his side to his back, then smiled up at him.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up,” Louis said.

“S’alright. I was barely asleep,” Harry yawned, pushing himself to sit back up next to Louis. Their shoulders were touching right down to their elbows. “Isn’t she a cutie?” Harry smiled, nodding towards the sleeping Rain.

“Yeah. Almost makes me think kids aren’t really that bad.”

“You don’t like kids?”

“No, I do. I think I like them better like this though. When they’re not so loud,” Louis laughed, making Harry do the same. There was still that glossy drowsiness in his eyes that could sparkle in the right light.

“Kids are a nice reminder that not everything in the world is so fucked up,” Harry said, a little quieter as he leaned into Louis’ shoulder. “All they do is play and learn how to speak and read and tie their shoes. They have that pure innocence that still leaves room for compassion and honesty and all those other great things we lose once we learn how fucked up the world really is.”

“Yeah. It’s like we lie to kids so they learn how important it is to not be a shitty person. And we hope that the longer we do, the less shitty they’ll turn out to be,” Louis shrugged.

“You emphasize lying like it’s a bad thing to protect them,” Harry said. It wasn’t accusatory, just on observation.

“It’s not, but there’s value in truth as well. Kids are going to grow up and find out that the universe doesn’t dispense dreams and nothing is as easy as you think it’s going to be. We raise our kids with pride and then send them off helplessly into a horrible world we’ve created for them. We send them to war.”

“We didn’t do that,” Harry said firmly. “Our parents did that. And now we gotta clean the mess up. Then we hand the mop to our kids, and them to theirs, and one day we won’t have to lie to them anymore.”

Louis narrowed his eyes, but his smile was curious. “You’re quite the optimist, aren’t you?”

“It’s easier to get through life if you’re hopeful it will turn out well.”

“Easier said than done,” Louis countered.

“Almost impossible to be done.”

He kept looking at Harry, watching as he diverted his eyes with a slightly awkward smile. Not in that he was uncomfortable, but they were sitting so close and Louis was offering the same smirk in return. Pam had moved into the passenger seat at some point and wasn’t paying any attention to them. With the hand that was rested on his own thigh, Louis wove his fingers in between Harry’s. He hoped that was okay, and the unwavering smile on his face told him yes.

“I hope I get to know you,” Louis said.

“What do you mean?”

“You can only find so much out about a person in three days. If we keep seeing each other, then I’ll really get to know you.”

Harry studied his face for a moment. Louis wondered if he looked as tired as he felt. “I hope I get to know you too. Maybe starting with your last name?”

“Tomlinson,” Louis said. “That’s who you can ask for when you call my office.”

“Not that I would call,” Harry smirked.

“Right,” Louis matched the expression. “I wouldn’t answer, anyway.”

“And I also wouldn’t ask if you’d like to go for dinner when I’m in San Francisco during the tour.”

“I definitely wouldn’t say yes. Or ask what I should wear.”

“Absolutely nothing.”

Louis had to cover his mouth to stop himself from laughing because he was sure whatever noise he was about to make would definitely wake up the sleeping child on his leg. Harry, on the other hand, wasn’t shy with the giggles he let escape.

“But,” Harry tilted his head to the side, an eyebrow inquisitively raised. “Say I _were_ to call…”

Louis bit the bottom of his lip between his teeth. “I might just pick up.”

 

The last goodbye was hard because Louis finally felt like he was leaving. The other goodbyes didn’t feel like this. He was too happy to see that Zayn found his family to be sad that he was leaving, and Niall he knew he would cross paths with again. These people – Liam, Sky, Pam, and Rain – they were all going back to lives that were far away from his. He had no idea when he’d see them next. Maybe he’d write them every once in a while, ask how Rain was doing as she grew up. Pam did give him their address after all.

From the drop off area at the airport, they all stood outside of the van to exchange in hugs and final words. Rain gave the biggest hugs. Even though Louis wasn’t sure how much he even got to bond with the toddler, her sweetness would make anyone miss her.

A man of few words, Sky left with not much more than a pat on the back. Louis still wasn’t quite sure how old the guy was, but he supposed some people might be able to grow beards like that in their early twenties. When he hugged Harry, he said, “Next time you see your friend Joey, tell him thanks for the great trip.”

“Joey who?”

“With the good acid,” Sky said enthusiastically to jog his memory. Louis wondered if Joey was even a real person.

“Oh, right,” Harry laughed. “Will do.”

“You have to let me at least give you some money for gas,” Louis said as Pam stepped closer to him. He’d been debating out loud ways to repay her and Sky since they reached the city limits, but she wasn’t budging.

“Don’t you even try,” she said. When Pam hugged Louis, she squeezed him extra tight, like a mother would. He still couldn’t believe she was younger than him. “Take care of each other,” she whispered in his ear.

When they pulled apart, Louis gave her an odd look, his head tilted. “What?”

“You heard me. And don’t forget to write. Don’t think I’m going to forget about my Festival Sons,” she pinched his cheek playfully. It was almost enough for him to forget about her first comment. Were they really that obvious?

Then again, did he really care?

Liam was last for the goodbyes, which felt fitting since they were the first to meet. He’d have to make sure to get Liam’s address too, or at least his parents’. By now, he owed the guy at least a pack of cigarettes.

“Thanks for sneaking backstage with me,” Louis said first.

“Thanks for involving me in your schemes,” Liam smirked in return.

“Thanks for the smokes.”

“Are we going to stand here and thank each other all day, or are you going to give me a hug?”

Louis laughed, then stepped into his outstretched arms. He patted Liam’s back a few times, then let go. Part of him hoped Liam would decide to go back out on the road. After he visited his parents, of course. If he ever decided to visit San Francisco, he’d have a place to stay. Maybe by then Louis would be out of that studio and into somewhere more suited for company. He wasn’t used to making new friends. He really didn’t want to leave them.

Harry and Louis didn’t watch the van pull away. They watched the rest of them pile in, then Sky started the engine and waited for the pair to go inside. Louis sent them off with a wave, and Pam sent him off with a wink through the passenger window.

Harry held the door open for Louis, then followed in behind. Before walking up to the desk, Louis needed a moment to catch his breath. Through those doors, he may have just left the fantasy.

“And then there were two,” Harry said, patting Louis on the shoulder. He led them towards the front desk.

They approached the booking agent and Harry let Louis go first. Since he failed to bring anything more than the few dollars of cash he happened to have in his wallet, Harry had to call his manager to get the flight details sorted out. He stepped away to find the payphones while Louis asked for the quickest flight out of here.

The thing was, Louis was headed across the country while Harry was only going across the state. The only flight Louis could get had a single middle seat left, but it didn’t leave until ten o’clock tonight. That meant he was going to have to find something to do in this airport for the next six hours. Harry’s flight was only half full, meaning he could get a window seat, and he would be boarding in two hours.

Food was the number one thing on both of their minds. Something warm and served fresh on a real plate. And some ice cold water to wash it all down. Louis’ mouth was watering just thinking about it. Straight to the airport restaurant, it was.

“This doesn’t count as me taking you to dinner,” Harry said as he looked up from his menu. They were seated across from each other in a small booth in the corner. “Our first date is not going to happen while I’m wearing your dirty clothes and neither of us have had a proper shower in three days.”

Louis grinned. “Fair enough. This could be a pre-date.”

“Yeah. Like a test run to make sure the first goes well.”

“What do we do if this one goes bad?”

Harry lifted his drink to his mouth. “Well, then we can only improve from there,” he winked over the rim, then took a sip.

“Good. That takes the pressure off.”

After he put his cup back down, Harry pinched the paper napkin on the table between his fingers. He was staring down at his hands as he folded it a few times, then his eyes flicked up to Louis. He looked like he had something to say.

“What?”

“Can I ask you a question?” Harry sat back, bringing the napkin with him in his lap. “Off the record,” he added to poke fun.

Louis smiled in amusement. “Off the record, eh? This must be scandalous.”

“I guess I just wanted to know if you, like… How did you know if you, um… Do you date girls?”

Louis tilted his head to the side. “Do I date girls?” He was slightly taken aback by the question. Letting out a breath of laughter, he realized Harry didn’t find the same humour in it. He took a sip of his water and then cleared his throat. “I have, yes. Not for a while. I had a lot on my plate to get through college.”

Harry tore a tiny piece off of the napkin and dropped it on the table. Then another. “So you aren’t gay?”

“Maybe I am. I don’t know. I liked the girls I was with, but I also like you.”

Harry smiled, but this conversation was sending Louis’ stomach in a fit of knots. He didn’t understand why they had to discuss this in such strict terms and definitions. This was still so new. He hadn’t thought about how or if this revelation would change his life. He didn’t really want to, either. If only thinking didn’t have to be a part of this. Then they could just act as they wished, not worrying about how other people felt about it. Other people didn’t matter when it came to this. No matter how much they might think they did.

“Do you date girls?” Louis countered. He’d heard and read things, of course, because he was in the business. But he also knew to take everything with a grain of salt, because he was in the business.

“I did in high school. Not now.”

“Do you date guys now?”

“Not exactly. I wouldn’t use that word, anyway.”

He didn’t ask what word Harry would use instead. The implication was enough.

“Can I ask _you_ a question? Off the record.” Louis was teasing, so it was Harry’s turn to laugh. “What did you mean when you said “not like that” back in the grass?”

Harry looked down at his hands again. It looked like he knew the question was coming, he just didn’t know when. He had told Louis before that he was having trouble collecting his thoughts. Maybe he had a mentality similar to Zayn’s. Didn’t want to speak unless he knew he had something to say.

“Not where it didn’t feel like I was breaking a rule, I guess. Being in this business, you’ve gotta be this act that’ll make the record company money, you know? You have to have a cliché rock ‘n’ roll image. That meant a lot of sneaking around behind closed doors with people you meet under various circumstances. The other night didn’t feel like that. I don’t know if it was the festival or the acid or-” he stopped to laugh because Louis did too. But then he said, “Or you.”

Louis smiled ever so slightly, holding the gaze. “I think it was a combination,” he said. “At least of the first and last things you said. I would say the festival made me feel freer than I’ve ever felt. You were just a nice added bonus.”

Harry shook his head with a laugh. Louis supposed he kind of ruined the moment, but he didn’t care. They didn’t have to analyze this. There was no reason to break down why they felt the way they did or what it all meant. It meant they liked each other. And they were going to see each other again. That’s all there was to it.

The waitress brought their food quite quickly, so the conversation died down as they ate. It was so nice to finally have something warm and cooked. Of course Pam’s peanut butter sandwiches were great, but there was no beating a fully cooked meal.

When they were finished Harry tried to pay, but Louis wouldn’t let him. It wasn’t out of a feeling of obligation or anything like that. Neither of them were in debt to the other. Louis simply wanted it to be his treat. He had a feeling there would be a few more dinners like this, anyway. Harry still left more than double the bill as a tip.

Since Harry was supposed to board in an hour, they decided to wait as his gate. There was no sense in separating just yet. It’s not like there was much else to do while waiting in an airport. Before they made their way over, Harry mentioned he was going to quickly find the bathrooms. That left Louis with a few minutes alone, and the perfect opportunity to do something he was dreading.

He had to call his boss.

There was no putting it off any longer. He was supposed to call with an update this morning, when he was meant to be on an early plane home. Really, he should’ve already been in San Francisco by now. His boss would be wondering how the interview went. The interview that Louis never got. The interview he didn’t even care about anymore.

He told Harry he’d be at the nearest payphone when he was finished, then tentatively made his way over. Louis had no idea what to tell his boss. There was nothing good he could say. At least, not that would make up for the lack of a cover story. Maybe the interview with Niall would soften the blow. And his pitch for the youth culture story. At least this phone call would be better than having to see the disapproval on his face in person.

Louis dropped a few coins in the slot and dialed the number. Each ring was agony. The knots in his stomach were twisting tighter. Their office secretary answered. It was still early afternoon back home, so he hoped his boss wouldn’t be out at lunch. The secretary put him through right away.

“Tomlinson, great to hear from you!” his boss’ surprisingly joyful voice filled his ear. Louis griped the phone tighter, nervously tapping his fingers on the number wheel.

“Ralph, hi. How’s everything going there?” Louis tried to make his voice just as cheery.

“Here? What do you care about that for? I need to hear about this festival from someone who was actually there. Did you hear what they’ve been saying about this on the news and radio? They called it a disaster area.”

“I wouldn’t say it was that bad,” Louis stuttered a laugh.

“You’ll have to tell me all about it when you get back tomorrow. I’ll take you for lunch. We should celebrate for your first big cover story, after all.”

“Actually, Ralph, that’s why I called. You see, I… I couldn’t actually get the interview. Besides his performance, I never even saw Harry there. Err, Styles,” he clarified, pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes shut tight. If he was going to lie, he couldn’t make it sound like he and Harry were on a first name basis.

Ralph paused, but Louis could still hear him take a breath on the other end. “What do you mean you couldn’t get the interview?”

He felt like a hypocrite. All the emphasis he always put on the importance of truth in his writing and in his life, and now he was living a weekend full of lies. Harry was the only one he was being honest with, but that was starting to not feel like enough.

“Okay, well, I actually ended up getting backst-”

“I just got off the phone with Harry Styles’ agent not even an hour ago. We booked the cover story interview for next week during his tour. You’ll be joining him on the road for a week to get his day-to-day life in the story.”

Louis shook his head in confusion, his eyebrows creased together. Harry’s agent? What was he talking about? He had barely left Harry’s side the last four days. They had been sitting across from each other at a table for the last hour. And Harry already said no. Twice.

“Sorry, did you call to arrange for the interview?” Louis asked. His voice had gone a few pitches higher because this made absolutely no sense.

“I assumed you arranged it, considering Harry was the one who requested the interview. Good thinking on adding it to the tour, by the way. You’ll have much more time together that way. You’ll be at all the Midwest dates.”

Harry requested the interview? He never mentioned anything about this before. It had to be some sort of mistake. They were passed this. Louis didn’t even want it anymore. Harry was more important to him than a cover story.

“I thought that- I didn’t think-”

“Excellent work this weekend, Tomlinson. We’ll see what we can do about getting you some more profiles like this in the future, if this one goes well. I’ll be honest, I wasn’t sure this scheme of yours would pay off. That kid has been denying major publications left right and centre.”

“Yeah, um. Thank you,” Louis said. He didn’t know what else he could say.

“I’ll let you go, here, because I’m sure you’re in a rush to get home. We’ll see you tomorrow, kid.”

“I-”

The dial tone sounded on the other end, so Louis dropped the phone back on its hook. He turned around slowly, trying to process all of that while he stressfully ran a hand through his hair.

“Hey,” Harry said. With his arms crossed, he was leaning his hip against the divide between the two phones. Louis wasn’t surprised to see him. He kind of had a feeling he was standing there.

“You talked to your agent?” Louis leaned back against the opposite divider.

“About an hour ago, yeah. When I needed to book the flight.”

Louis waited for him to elaborate, but Harry just had this unwavering smirk on his face.

“You already said no to the interview. Twice. I thought you hated the press?”

“I do.”

“Then why the change of heart?”

“I don’t hate you.”

Louis shook his head, his eyes falling closed. “I don’t even care about that interview anymore. I’ve only been working there a few months. I’ll get another cover story. You shouldn’t feel like you have to do it because of me.”

“Louis, I want to do the interview. It’s like you said, up-and-comer helping an up-and-comer, right? Besides, I’d much rather do a big interview like this if I actually _trust_ the person asking the questions.”

He considered Harry’s reasoning for a moment. It didn’t stop him from feeling guilty. He didn’t want Harry to think this was some elaborate way to get him to agree to the story. Louis could not stress enough how little that meant to him now. Then again, Harry was using the ‘T’ word.

“If we do this, it’s because _you_ want to do it. Not me. I’ll be glad to write the story. I’ll put my everything into it, but I’d also call Ralph back right now and say I won’t take it if the only reason you’re saying yes is because you think you’re giving me what I want.”

“Why would that be a bad thing?”

Louis reached for the phone. Harry grabbed his wrist to stop him, then stepped in the way of it. His reflex was surprisingly fast.

“There’s another phone right next to us,” Louis said. Harry didn’t free his wrist, but he was holding it gently.

“I want to do this. For me and for you,” Harry bent his knees slightly so they were at eye level. He held Louis still by the crook of his neck. “I know the story means a lot for your career. And honestly, a cover story would probably be good for me too. If I thought you were going to exploit me or some bullshit like that then I wouldn’t do it, but I know you won’t. Do you trust _me_?”

Louis looked at him tentatively. He was standing so close and looking so sincere. Of course Louis trusted him. He hadn’t given him a reason not to yet.

This had potential to be a really big story. Harry’s first cover. Louis knew this was only the start of a long and promising career for Harry. Hopefully for both of them. The whole country knew Harry had something that was going to last.

Maybe they would be something that was going to last.

How could Louis turn down being a part of any of it when the invitation was right there in front of him?

“So a week with you on tour?” Louis looked up at him, smiling with the corner of his mouth. “You know, I’ve been coast to coast, but never actually got to see the middle.”

Harry widened his eyes. “So that means you’ll do it?”

“Yes. I’ll do it.”

Harry threw his arms around Louis and hugged him so tight he practically lifted him off the ground. Who knew this weekend would start with Louis begging Harry for an interview, and end with Harry begging Louis for one? ‘Who knew?’ could be thrown around for a lot of things that happened this weekend. And Louis wouldn’t change a single one of the results.

Wrapped up in Harry’s excitement, quite literally, Louis allowed himself to be excited too. It _was_ kind of a big deal. He was going to do Harry justice in this story. Not the Harry that had his image plastered on every entertainment news outlet across the nation. The Harry that was caring and passionate and had ideas bigger than himself. The one that was more than a goldmine in young people’s pockets. The one that Louis wanted everyone else to know: all the best parts of him.

On the way to the gate, Harry picked up a newspaper off a stand and tucked it under his arm. They found a couple of empty seats in the corner to plant themselves. Louis curled himself into a ball between the armrests so he was facing Harry, who crossed his legs as he unfolded the front cover of the paper.

TRAFFIC UPTIGHT AT HIPPIEFEST.

Harry and Louis looked at each other knowingly, not able to help but laugh at the headline.

“This weekend meant so much to so many people, but to everyone else it was just a traffic jam,” Harry shook his head, scanning the picture of cars parked along a curve in the freeway.

“Maybe it’ll be one of those things where you just had to be there,” Louis suggested, letting his head fall on the top of the backrest. As soon as Harry’s plane left, he was going to find somewhere to take a nap while he waited.

Harry was flipping to page three, where the rest of the article was. “Weren’t you the one who said this is one thing everyone who was there who will have in common for the rest of their lives?”

“Yup,” Louis said over a yawn.

“That was a nice thought,” Harry said. When he glanced in Louis’ direction, he noticed his eyes were just about closed. “Why don’t you take a nap?” he suggested.

“Not until you leave.” Louis lifted his arm to prop his head up.

“I don’t mind. You’re tired.”

“Really, I can make it. I went to college for four years. Pulling an all-nighter is nothing for me.” He turned around in his seat so his feet would land on the floor. Maybe he should’ve ordered a coffee in the restaurant. But he also was looking forward to that nap in an hour.

Harry was wearing a funny smirk, and Louis didn’t even notice until he got himself settled.

“I have an idea for something that’ll keep us occupied,” he said, wiggling an eyebrow.

“Here?!”

“Not _here_ here. And get your mind out of the gutter. I was just thinking a goodbye kiss.”

“For an hour?”

Harry shrugged. “If it takes that long.”

Louis peered around, trying to see if anyone was watching them. Not that he was going to do anything out here in the open. This airport was so small that none of the few other people around were even sparing them a glance.

“Come with me,” Louis said, taking Harry by his wrist. His bag still hugged his torso as they jogged towards a narrow hallway Louis spotted across the main walkway.

The sound of their feet hitting the tiled floor echoed in the tiny space. They turned the corner so they were completely out of sight, then Louis backed himself against the wall. Slowly, he guided Harry towards him with both hands.

“Is this what you had in mind?” Louis asked him.

“Pretty much,” Harry smiled. He didn’t waste any more time before he was meeting Louis in an eager kiss.

It was only this morning that they were doing this exact thing – and even more than this exact thing – but Louis found himself missing it. He’d have to go another week before their lips reunited again. That meant he was going to have to soak this in while he could.

For a while they kissed lazily, their fingers messing up each other’s hair. It didn’t take long for their lips to get tired because every other part of them had been begging for sleep for hours. Harry made sure to leave a little something on Louis’ neck so the memory would tide him over until next week. Louis definitely had no complaints. In fact, he had something for Harry as well. Something that held a different intention.

“I’ve been carrying this around for a couple days,” Louis said, taking advantage of a moment when his mouth was free to speak. He had reached into his pocket and pulled out a photograph. The one Zayn had taken of them that morning in the grass. “I want you to have it.”

Harry must’ve heard the shutter that morning too, because he didn’t question anything about it. When he looked at it, delicately taking it from Louis’ hand, he smiled.

“It’s a nice picture,” Harry said thoughtfully. “A good moment.”

“I thought so.”

“You’re sure you want me to have it?”

“As long as you don’t lose it. And let me take a peek every once in a while.”

Harry kissed him once more, a slow peck. “I’ll keep it safe,” he said, then tucked the photo in his own back pocket of the borrowed pants.

Louis trusted he would.

 

Alone at his own gate, Louis sat against the wall with his knees propped up, his notebook rested on his thighs. He tapped his pencil anxiously against the paper as he chewed on his thumbnail, re-reading the notes he’d scribbled down over and over again. With a sigh, he glanced up at his surroundings to take a mental break. His eyes were alert now that he’d woken up from his hour long nap on a cushioned bench after Harry left. Louis wasn’t sad to watch him go off on that plane. In only a week he was going to be sitting on a tour bus with him, writing the article, spending nights in hotel rooms, hopefully with Harry’s company.

The sooner each of them got home, the sooner they could see each other again.

And Louis didn’t want to think about what could come after that week. He didn’t know what was going to happen. That’s what made the possibilities so exciting.

Digging back into his bag, Louis pulled out the flyer he had gotten from Pam on Friday. It was folded into four with none of the edges lining up. Flattening the creases, he laid it down across the page his notebook was open to.

WOODSTOCK MUSIC AND ART FAIR PRESENTS: AN AQUARIAN EXPOSITION

That’s what the top corner read in small black letters next to the illustration of a white bird sitting on a guitar neck. He glanced over the arts, crafts, and food sections, noting how different they were in the plans versus the execution. Taking his pencil, he began lightly shading in the bird just to pass time.

The ideas weren’t coming to him. His brain was both over tired and over stimulated. Every time he thought about Harry, his stomach was sent into an instant flutter. Someone else crossed his mind as well. The bird he was scribbling on reminded him of the search for the flag with a tent.

As soon as the thought crossed Louis’ mind, he swore he could feel someone’s stare. His head shot up, whipping from side to side, but no one was around. That girl had made him paranoid. She was everywhere, but everything about her was a mystery. She seemed to like it that way.

He was about to go back to his shading when he caught her eye. On the opposite side of the gate, sitting in an empty row of chairs with an open book in her hands, Deja was peering over the pages. She smirked that knowing smirk that made you wish you knew what was going on in the person’s head. And Louis smiled back, a short laugh escaping with his breath. She winked, but a couple people walking past blocked Louis’ view. Just like that, she had disappeared.

Louis shook his head. Still with a smile, he looked back down at his notebook.

Not everything had to make sense. He kind of liked the mystery too.

All at once, the idea came to him. Both Louis’ mind and his heart were racing. Not to compete, because they were on the same team. He flipped to the next page and the words were practically spilling from his pencil. He even knew the title. He finally had a story.

ROCK MUSIC SPARKS A GENERATION OF CHANGE

_The Woodstock Music and Art Fair promised three days of peace and music, but delivered a weekend of organized chaos with an extraordinary attendance. Young people from across the nation gathered to appreciate a passion they all shared, whether it be music, peace, or sticking it to The Man. I left having learned new names and faces that I’ll never forget. It was all for the music, but somehow so much more than just the music. If you can dig where that’s at…_


End file.
